


The Snake and the Eaglet

by BlutEngel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Bullying, Death Eaters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guardianship, Hurt/Comfort, Muggle Life, Muggle London, Nightmares, OCD, Redemption, Snape smokes, alternative universe, death of families, mention of Queen Victoria, silent magic, trial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-06-16 17:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 77,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15441891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlutEngel/pseuds/BlutEngel
Summary: We are back in 1981. Snape had been spying for Dumbledore for a couple of months, and he's just learned about the Potter's death and Harry's survival. In parallel, William, a fifth year Ravenclaw student, is struggling with both anxiety and bullying. Unexpectedly, Dumbledore would ask Snape to redeem earlier and decide for him a new role, helping William in the process.





	1. A Living Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome dear readers and curious ones,  
> Here is my AU from the Harry Potter universe. It is mainly focused on Snape and the OC I created for my other series.  
> English is not my mother tongue and this fic is not yet beta'ed, so feel free to correct me (despite regular proofreads, I may miss some mistakes).  
> All recognizable characters and places come from J.K. Rowling, All credits go to her, not me (apart from my OC).

Nightmares were only pieces of our imagination that scared us to the wits in the middle of the night. That was what he thought, then he had to revise his judgment while thinking twice about the way his life turned to be lately.  
Living, bloody living nightmares did exist, and he just consciously ignored it until he had to face it once more. The young man swallowed hard, his hands were shaking both from a great amount of anxiety and of wrath – pure wrath. Alas, he was well-educated, plus was good at Occlumency, not to behave. He tried his best, though, as he had to endure the old man’s babbling about duties and love and other human inclinations he thought he was not concerned with at all. He was wrong, from beginning to end. He was, for Merlin’s sake, human too – and he went aware of this on that night.  


Snape could not stand on his feet and he finally gave up and let himself laying down in one chair, sobs blocked halfway in his throat. He only managed to hide his face with one hand, but tears still did not appear, despite the fact they were burning the corners of his eyes. His breath was put in difficulty, he could barely inhale without suffering from a painful ache that constricted his lungs due to his anxiety and when he could exhale, they were deep and loud as if he was a hurt animal – he was hurt, nevertheless he tried not to show it that much, but he actually failed like a perfect idiot so why still pretending not to be? That is why Dumbledore was talking along. Well, the Headmaster had been in the heart of a soliloquy for a dozen of minutes, and Snape only heard the half of it, his emotions too strong to disturb his reasoning. He was particularly mad at him. Why did it occur if the man had promised to do everything he could to protect and spare her – their lives? He could not handle it at all, his reasoning being the less efficient than at any time.  
And – Oh! His mind ran so fast all of a sudden he understood in one click what was going on. The young man rose his head, startled, and gazed at Dumbledore right in the blank of the eye.  


‘Are you trying to manipulate me, aren’t you’, he stiffed, a sounding growl in the back of his voice – like a proper hurt animal.  
The Headmaster stopped at once and took time to ponder whether he would be that honest with the Death Eater barely the half of himself in front of him.  
‘I am not’, he answered calmly after a few seconds. ‘Not completely’, he added as Snape gave him that don’t-fool-me look. ‘I just try to give you hints to use your grief the best you can in order to ease your pain and… Why not, redeem yourself after those past years of misbehavior’, concluded Dumbledore, his eyes sparkling either from kindness or seriousness – maybe there were both.  
‘As if looking after a child would be enough for wiping the board clean’, Snape hissed, not that much confident in people who would be as much lenient as the man before him. He only had to watch his staff carefully to have the correct answer – as Snape had not been that much well-received this September and the trial that will be held at the beginning of the year to follow waiting for him, as society did not receive him well too.  
‘Still, Harry won’t be there before a decade, I was wondering about how you could redeem yourself a bit earlier… If it’s that only what stresses you out if not sufficient’, wondered the old wizard out loud, while Snape looked at him in half-concern half-suspicion. It was not the first time the young man experienced his elder having that kind of ideas which were far more terrible than they appeared to be. This great wizard could be that frightening by only saying a few words – words that would displease the young professor here. It was beyond his abilities to look after a child.  


‘Don’t you mind if I refresh your memory by telling to be cautious with some students here’, and that time, the Headmaster did not look out of concern anymore, almost did he seem to scare the Death Eater. ‘I heard that things went wrong with Melbourne lately, specifically with you. I understand the punishment for having hexed back his mates but to the point you retired dozens of points as well as given him detention is quite unfair. Didn’t you note that the boy is bullied by people who believe in what you served so obediently under Voldemort’s leadership?’  


Oh my, Snape thought, as if learning Lily’s death tonight was too little to endure to be criticized about a punishment old of one week. As if that dunderhead would stop making the weather on people’s heads by simple willing. Moreover, he restrained himself from reminding the Headmaster his lack of duties while the Marauders attacked him. It was not the moment to come back to that, specifically since they were part of that night nightmare.  


‘His stubbornness and inclination of responding back after me is quite fair enough for the punishment I decided to inflict him’, he answered back, still that growl in the back of his throat. ‘And if I may talk about discipline with you later, that would be mostly polite from you’, he added in a snarl, quite hurt in his hurt to have to discuss this in the middle of that nightmarish night.  
‘I daresay you are right’, Dumbledore finally replied, after a very long moment of complete stiflingly silence. ‘Still, please consider what I said about Melbourne whenever you can. He lost his most cherished ones quite three years ago. If you...’  
‘Enough’, the Potions Master cut short. ‘Enough. Don’t play with my… grief… Whatever you like to name it… I understood, thank you to make sure of it but I think wiser I retire by now. I still have… plenty of things due to my position to do.’ he found out as quickly as his thoughts actually allowed him to find out as a plausible excuse to withdraw. If only he could escape that living nightmare…  
Dumbledore nodded in silence, real pain in both eyes and face and wishes him do well until breakfast time.  
*

Snape gave a second look at the Ravenclaw table. That Sunday had been immemorial in all ways possible, between the great bursts of joy and pain when the news came in to report the Dark Lord defeat. A kind of dizziness had washed him up since he had woken up this morning, as he could not remember properly what not feeling was like. His Occlumency did not help that much, only to restrain the nightmares to steal every of his sleeping hours. Still not enough as he had difficulties in pouring tea without letting a single drop on his napkin before him. Therefore, abusing the Sleeping Draught would have been considered foolish from a Potions Master with much talent, as they side-effects were perfectly well-known to him. Everybody from the staff was particularly on their nerves in any case they had to face an incident as it happened the day before, as a collusion between pros and antis could only create lots of enmities behaviors – even in the ranks of teenagers still learning how to use their magic properly at school.  


The Potions Master had tried to record Melbourne’s whereabouts as far the students had read the Daily Prophet and he succeeded in recollecting a few of these by eavesdropping a few of those brats in the corridors while he surveyed the north aisle. On that day, unclear was it to note on the boy’s face the remains of his sobs at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. That was what Snape was double-checking: how was he able not to care as the others did about what still transcended them all? He did not share neither the joy nor the anger from any of his mates, as if he was living in an impenetrable bubble – here, he actually lived in his own bubble.  
The Eaglet was lost in his mind as he had the irritable tendency anywhere he was, his sky-blue eyes staring something high in the ceiling while trying to sip his own bowl of tea – a green double-lengthened brewed one as usual. Snape did not feel it before he heard his half-audible smirk and tried to faint being only preoccupied with his breakfast, but he perfectly knew Dumbledore, just seated at his right, had seen all of this as the younger could feel his elder’s gaze on his carotid. The Potions Master gave up and finished his breakfast as fast as he could, avoiding getting up with a stomach ache, and retrieved in his own apartments until classes started.  


Fortunately enough, the routine of a boarding school professor completed his long days quite well so that he had no spare time to let his feelings assaulting him, the remains of those resisting to his Occlumency though.  
Quite true, unless you started your day with the fifth years including that light-headed dunderhead. Well, the most efficient exercise to be that horrible professor, wearing that mask all day, and taunting students here and there, Snape thought while welcoming the teenagers with a death glare addressed to each of them.  


And as usual, the boy seated at the very back of the classroom, one of the duo of girls always coming along with him at his side. This time, Virginia composed the pair of them and Elizabeth joined another Ravenclaw student, Michael Pitt. The four of them were the lot of not bothering the Potions Master that much. They succeeded in giving him back their phials of potions at the end of class and were quite attentive to what he forced them to learn. Still, Melbourne was the most atypical of the group, as if his constant reverie mistook his professors; alas for Snape who had to go further than what that light-headed dunderhead appeared to be because whenever he asked him questions, he was able to give the answer he expected – even if the kind of answer he gave him was a bit gloomy. How could he learn about such detailed effects of poisons and brewing mistakes on the human body, it was a complete mystery as books never went that far in the explanations given. Still, his knowledge was always accurate and showed he was aware of the necessity of being particularly cautious while brewing potions. That last detail would be missing somehow later.  


The year had begun in a sort of way that destabilized all the students, the aim driven by Snape was to put an end to his predecessor’s lenience. Nonetheless they all had appeared having a certain quality background on potions, otherwise they were not as accurate as if the Potions Master would have taught them those. So, the young man had decided to flip a large part of the program schedule and demanded to astonished brats to brew a more complex solution as a start, the Shrinking Solution for what it was. He had not told them that it was a sort of test to evaluate how they would manage not to fail that much – he had not expected any of them to succeed an OWL potion far from September.  
Nevertheless, that was not the first concern the professor had about Melbourne, if not his some sort of abilities to follow the track despite his tendency of daydreaming, but his poor health. At first, Snape did not see that, surely he had not paid enough attention to that kind of things the very first weeks. Time went by and he just had to witness the everyday exhaustion displayed by the boy. You certainly could put stuff into the large dark marks underlining his eyes. The Raven had already noted him yawning a couple of times in his classes and that close desire to sleep in a row the teenager tried desperately to avoid. On that day he was specifically out of service, far from the beginning, yet he never raised his hand when the professor asked the students what they could tell him on the subject they would have in practice a couple of minutes straight away later. So, the Potions Master only guessed it because Melbourne remained still, perfectly still, and his lost gaze wherever he had lost it was more blurred than usual. He clearly needed a Pepper-Up for a change, thought Snape bitterly as he was torturing his classmates to exhaustion, not at all satisfied by the huge holes in the recollection of things they had to tell him. How could they forget what they had to write him in an essay in one weekend, that was a complete disaster he had to compose with every single week.  


Later, while the teenagers were preparing their potion, the young man walked between the ranks to control and comment whatever they were doing and stopped dead at the back of Melbourne who looked like the one concentrated in his task but Snape knew he was not simply by the way he was wasting his roots. Oh my, could he even pay attention to that most important procedure in the recipe? He exhaled loudly, had nothing in response and decided to use the strong way: he grabbed his book more firmly and gave a hit on the top of the boy’s head. An ‘ouch!’ came back to his ears and that brat turned towards him, half-afraid – how delighted he felt: he succeeded in frightening the untouchable dunderhead and he visibly showed it by a mischievous smile.  


‘You are wasting your roots by the way you are torturing them’, he said half-voiced, the tone of his voice so sweet that it indicated an invisible threat ready to strike. ‘What is indicated both on the board and on the book, Melbourne?’ The Eaglet watched both one after the other and froze, muffled a gap, still heard by Snape whose extreme pleasure to taunt him went to its top, and mumbled a ‘cut the roots in small pieces’ like the perfect prey which was going to be eaten. ‘So, why are you reducing them in close powder, then? Don’t you know reading?’ achieved the Potions Master. He could see the small shaking that crossed his spine before freezing again. ‘Really, disappointing’ the professor trailed off before attacking Melbourne’s co-worker, Virginia: ‘And you, you are as stupid as him for not telling him he has been doing wrong for a couple of minutes.’ End of story, next pair to traumatize. Seriously, what didn’t they understand in ‘Potions are a discipline that ask discipline, cautiousness and seriousness’?  


As he finished his survey and came back to the front of the class to watch that whole pack of dunderheads, Snape had a second look on Melbourne. That time he did not look at him back as he always did, as if his sense was higher than the normal teenager. No, the boy was cutting another series of roots and by what he could see, he managed to cut them and not smashing them. Good, he would not make his cauldron explode. Both him and Virginia even gave him back a phial that contained what looked like what he had expected of the potion at the end of the double-hour class.  
*

‘Had he any relatives remained’ he asked to his colleague Flitwick while both headed to the staff room. ‘I mean, Melbourne’, the young added for the Charms professor’s better understanding.  
‘None I heard about’, half-squeaked the Head of Ravenclaw, simply mystified such this man would care about one of his Eaglets. ‘All his family is Muggle so I guess it would be unreasonable to let them know their nephew needs a home and known as a wizard, the Secrecy under consideration here – as it yet had been threatened at once.’  
Snape stopped Flitwick moving forward and made his colleague turn to him to gaze at him.  


‘What’s that all about?’ A growl, again. Oh my, his emotions were stepping towards the barrier of his consciousness. Why now?  
‘If I understood it, Melbourne had shown a bit of his magic in front of his paternal family when he was barely six’, Flitwick answered slowly, recollecting this memory from the back of his mind. ‘Not to mention the whole mess that ensued at the Unspeakables’ who had to erase the memories of seventeen people I believe...’. 

Oh! Seventeen people! What a tense situation to face even for well-trained Unspeakables. The Department surely had some trouble to decide for a specific protocol… The Potions Master released his grip he had on his colleague’s arm at last, thoughtful about what he revealed, but he was quickly interrupted as the Head of Ravenclaw asked him why he specifically worried about Melbourne. The young man froze all at once and collected himself as fast as his doubt washed over him, his usual mask again on his face. His lips went thin and he only mumbled about his necessity to know the student better, to try to understand his attitude in class – which was not the entire truth but a tangible reason to justify his concern. Flitwick nodded in silence and both of them finally reached the staff room which was almost full at that hour of the day. Once again, the Raven had a reason to believe Melbourne was part of the lot creating troubles without noticing them. It would have been a nightmare for his siblings, his tutors or even his professors here, wouldn’t it?  
*

‘Was pouring me once not enough to try it again?’ hissed Snape, his jaws half-clenched in total anger he tried to control anyway, while he was towering Melbourne whom wand was still in mid-air. ‘And what part of the school rules didn’t you understand to misbehave again and again like a stupid brat with no single thinking boiling your brain?’  
The boy finally broke his guard and put his wand in his robe’s pocket, eyes admiring his shoes.  
‘’m sorry sir’, he murmured, still knowing formal excuses were useless with the Potions Master.

Behind the professor, the teenager could hear his bullies hardly controlling their mocking laughs towards him. Unfortunately to him, the Head of Slytherin had not arrived at time to witness the hexes they had cursed against the boy before he lost his temper and played with the weather inside once more. He never wanted to curse anything else, hurting people was beyond his mental capacities, so he had learned a bit of advanced charms to calm down his bullies with no mean to hurt them. Lately, things had turned into a big misfortune because every time Melbourne cast his spell, the result was pouring on Snape’s head – or it was due to the special radar the professor developed for him exclusively to find himself under dark threatening clouds thundering and pouring a strong rain.  


Snape tried to figure out all of this, before spitting out his long list of punishment. First, the Eaglet had changed in three and a bit more years, as he never answered back before while he’d been attacked. This pacific characteristic of his had been commented by a seven year Snape’s ‘such cowardice’. By now, it was the contrary – quite a surprising development, but understandable if the boy had been particularly annoyed since then. Secondly, who was he, Snape, to reprimand an attitude he had too as a student, even more biting than Melbourne? Nevertheless, as a professor, he could not pretend such behaviors did not exist and he had to punish, that was all. Thirdly, he admitted he was a bit impressed by the boy’s ability to learn complex charms, one of Flitwick’s fields of specialization not to say more, but he would never tell it out loud to the main concerned. Finally, by having a glance at the bullies who appeared not belonging to his House, things went worse, as if Melbourne’s past non reaction had invited everyone to bully him.  


‘The lot of you behind my back’, he said in a sour voice, ‘Taking you ten points each’. What were laughs until now became cries of protest. ‘If you are unsatisfied, I give you detention every single Saturday remaining this month and the next, for disrespect of the curfew’. A sounding silence went on after his words and the Potions Master turned his attention back to the teenager in front of him, his face impenetrable. ‘What about a little excursion to my office effective, right now’ he gave him in a murmur, pointing the way down to the Dungeons with his hand.  
Melbourne said nothing, wondering if he were given a detention, pushing aside every impossibility that offered that only plausible choice to him, as the Raven never had a talk to any student outside from his House in his office and after the curfew.  


Both of them walked side by side in complete silence until they reached the professor’s office, him closing the door behind them and offered a seat to the student.  
‘How did you come up knowing that sort of spell’ spurted out Snape not letting his student breathe more than one or two cycles after he let himself slump on the chair.  
‘Read it in a book’, the boy answered shortly. A sharp look from his professor informed him that it was obvious and he wanted to know further details. Melbourne sighed, his shoulders fell a little bit, still he did not cross Snape’s gaze at all. By the way, he avoided eye contact as much as he could.  
‘I was bothered by not defending myself when I’m attacked so I thought it would be better if I could answer back but – I couldn’t stand the idea to hurt others so…’ he finished in a gulp and shred his shoulders.  
‘Despite the fact it is forbidden to use spells wherever outside the classes’ the Potions Master cut short. ‘I didn’t know you were inclined to that sort of attitude. Then, I must tell you you won’t be left without any punishment.’ This said, he took a pause and scanned the Eaglet’s expression: he even did not look worried at all. Rares were the moments he frightened him at all after all. ‘Detention Saturday morning, ten o’clock. I don’t tolerate any late. Now, if you please, I’ll bring you to your Common Room.’  


The sentence proclaimed, Melbourne nodded in silence, stood up and followed the Raven up to the fifth floor, the corridors dark and silent as they must be every night. They only met a few of the professors who were assigned to patrol in the areas they were given to survey. Only McGonagall stopped them to ask whether Snape was with a student at this hour of the evening, the latter murmuring he had to know why the fifth year had started to hex other dunderheads and because of it had a detention the following weekend. Again, thought the Transfiguration professor, that would not be a surprise Melbourne would reach a record of punishments with Snape as a professor…  
*

Snape was wrong: things went worse as they were a few days later, wondering what would have been done and if he should have better forbidden the brat to come to class at first, but possibilities were possibilities and facts could not be erased so he had to face it anyway. To what cost?  


The class went on classically in a routine. First, the professor asked the students what they could tell him off the topic they were studying, then he handed them back the essays and criticized what was due to criticize and finally gave them the instructions written on the board with a flick from his wand.  
Roughly about half the first hour of the two, a specific smell, a sour odor even, slowly spread into the room that interrupted Snape in his inspection straight away, gave him quivers and the only thing he remembered far from there was to shout out ‘Out, NOW!’ to an astonished audience who could not believe their ears. Surely they did not expect that at all and as no explanation went on but only a second series of ‘OUT, everybody OUT!’ and a quite stressful Dungeons’ Bat, the teenagers finally stepped out to the exit obediently, before Snape could recollect and demand them to go at the Hospital Wing at once – better if they did not want to end up dead later in the day. That was enough for them to cooperate. The human race was that they belong to the mammals scared about death. Now, he could concentrate on the origin of the matter, the catastrophe, and ran to Melbourne’s place where the boy had tried to shield his cauldron but apparently failed as he had lost control of his temper: he was silently crying, his hands were shaking and the Potions Master stopped him doing one more try to spare an explosion by a short series of unformulated spells. The mixture had then vanished and by now the Raven was darkly eyeing to death the poor Eaglet who could not stop crying.  


‘What the Hell did you do with the daisies?’ hissed Snape half-voiced, his anxiety level so high it could be heard, such as his anger, his hands flat on the desk. ‘Are you that unconscious to forget to pay attention at all and try to kill all your classmates, Melbourne?’

The student could only sob, unable to speak or to react, all shaken himself. Then, the professor obliged him to go out of the classroom, closed the door and sailed it before taking the dunderhead by the arm painfully and climbed the stairs up to Mrs Pomfrey’s place.  


‘Stop yelling, I can’t even understand a bit of what you perfectly spit out of your breath’, cut firmly the matron, herself quite out of her nerves – receiving a whole class in a row in her aisle all of a sudden was particularly stressful, mostly because none of them was able to explain to her the situation as they did not know what happened. Snape closed his mouth, upset as he was, sighed loudly before starting the story from its beginning in a more intelligible voice.  
Pomfrey’s eyes widened at the end of it and she peeped a look at Melbourne whom face was wet because of the tears that continued rolling on his cheeks. Subsequently she demanded him to lay down on one of the extra beds she had summoned and most of all not moving a single finger.  


‘Shouting doesn’t solve the problem, plus I would add that it can worsen your health by now’, she then said to the Head of Slytherin, before she handed the last bed in order to make a proper diagnosis, but she had first to confine the lot as they all were exposed to toxic smokes, even for a few minutes.  
Despite the matron’s warnings, Snape did not calm down at all, pondering again and again all day about what happened that morning until the point his faints were quite strong and he could barely raise his head while he was laying on the bed. That fed his thoughts more and he slowly but surely hated the brat more and more. Oh, if he could get up, reach the boy’s bed and hit him with whatever his hands could grip on the way, he would do so.  


The day went on, Madam Pomfrey running from one side of the Hospital Wing to the other to give Solutions to the students and to appear at the bedside of one of them whenever they asked after her.  
As the sky went dark and the lights from the candles came brighter inside, the matron had not the luxury to make a pause, the majority of the symptoms (coughs, throat inflammations, red blotches wherever they could appear, faints, nausea, even vomiting to those more sensitive) controlled, she was on the idea of seating when the doors banged open and four figures appeared at the threshold. They soon revealed themselves: the Headmaster and the three Heads of Houses had been hearing about what had occurred and had decided to see by themselves the consequences of a very rare accident. Their faces look pretty much worried and even stern from McGonagall who could only feel but some sort of anxiety washing over on her.  


Aware of the visitors’ presence as he heard them come in, in spite of his faints not losing their grip on him, Snape managed to get up and sit up on his bed, growling under his breath from pain and upset. Nonetheless, he did not try to stand up, his limbs still feeble and knowledgeable of the missed potion effects. Then, he glanced at Sprout and saw she came with a series of sunflower seeds to complete the counter-poison Pomfrey had started to brew, after he had indicated her all the ingredients involved in the accident.  


‘It would have been worse’, she commented still she looked concerned and took the issue as it was. ‘Is everybody well hydrated? So, I’m giving this to Madam Pomfrey’, she concluded, turning her feet to step to the matron’s office. Snape followed her until she was out of sight after she closed the office door, then he heard someone clearing one’s throat and he reported his attention to the three colleagues remaining at his side. Unfortunately to him, by the way the three of them looked hard at him, he painfully swallowed and waited for their interrogations.  


He first had to explain again what had happened, hardly restraining himself from expressing his anger towards Melbourne, still he remained polite and matter-of-factly. By the way, he concluded there had to be something made about the teenager, addressing it to Flitwick specifically.  
‘It’s like he hadn’t slept for weeks’, he said in a murmur. ‘And skipping most of the meals doesn’t do well to him as well’.  
Dumbledore nodded, agreeing by this simple gesture, his eyes sparkling that peculiar shade signifying ‘beware of what you’re going to say next’.  
‘What are the measures to make about the classroom, then?’ asked McGonagall.  
‘I will reuse the counter-poison as a mister but I think wiser not to have class in there for a while.’ the Potions Master answered with a blank tone. ‘On other matters, I would like to have a private chat with Flitwick’, he ended with his more usual strict looks.  
*

‘This punishment is overly disproportionate’, Flitwick snapped back when his colleague was having a hard time to try not to display his anger – but he failed, clearly he failed as he just said that he intended to put Melbourne in detention for a complete three-month time period. ‘And I would add that is completely out of educational meanings! What do you want him to remember from doing such a mistake, if not by rubbing the backs of cauldrons every single night for a quarter? He hasn’t come over his shock yet!’  
‘That’s not my problem. If he had been paying attention far from the beginning, he won’t feel miserable now’, stung the Raven, who did not calm down a bit. ‘I won’t let him without any punishment. You won’t change my mind on this.’ he added threateningly.  
The Charms professor sighed. Indeed, he admitted that point but the kind his colleague had decided was so unfair as his pupil was scared to his wits. He was still crying when he left the Hospital Wing.  
So he had to accomplish his role as Head, which meant he had to be Melbourne’s lawyer. The man crossed his office to open a cashier from his furniture from which he took a heavy file and handed half a dozen of papers to a suspicious Snape.  
‘Here are the proofs that Melbourne is not as light-headed as he appears to be. He is top in most of his classes, his professors praise his seriousness and his work. He had always been cautious in Potions, professor Slughorn could rely on it. But punishing him like you want him to is far from being productive to him and I, as Head of House oppose to it, unless you change your word.’  


The Potions Master had scanned the papers, the boy’s marks and professors’ remarks from the previous year, then he glanced at his colleague and scowl.  
‘Whereas he seems so perfect, he still managed to miss the track on potions this year with me. So, unless he endured an Obliviate during the summer, he actually forgot to be attentive.’ he concluded while he put the papers on the desk in front of him.  
This time, Flitwick lost a bit of his temper, otherwise he bit his lower lip to think twice before attacking the Raven. ‘I’m not minimizing his acts but...’  
‘But you’re going to do it anyway’, Snape cut him, attracting the Head of Ravenclaw’s dark gaze.  
‘Didn’t you ever pay attention to his bad condition? Didn’t you guess he is bullied like… Let me remind you… someone had been so while he was a student here?’  
‘As far as I am aware of how those dunderheads act with one another, I’d like you not to tell that I’m too blind and stupid to even note Melbourne is completely sore. And I remind you that I can’t do anything about it at all but teach him Potions and giving him detentions and take him points.’  
‘You missed a huge and important part of the professor’s role, if I may say so’ Flitwick bit back. ‘I’ll tell you now: you have to note and report any unusual behavior from your students, belonging or not to you House and Melbourne’s soreness is one of those.’  
*

The Heads of House and the Headmaster were sitting in his office, waiting for Melbourne. Tea had been prepared and they chatted, quite an animated one, until a timid series of knocks could be heard. Dumbledore invited the boy to come in and all of them could witness how miserable he looked while he took a seat and mumbled the usual politeness, not daring to gaze any of his professors.  
‘A cup of tea, William?’ asked the old wizard, and after a nod from the pupil, a cup levitated to him. ‘How do you feel? I heard you remained at the Hospital Wing, and I daresay it was clever to do so.’  


The teenager shrugged and kept his mouth closed, a kind of knot made in his throat, from his culpability and shyness both at once. He was right, as the meeting was mostly about warnings, from the Potions classes’ security and his quite bad health. To conclude this, Snape announced the punishment: detention for two weeks and an essay about the dangers of misusing the daisies and other ingredients appearing to be inoffensive to hand him as soon as possible.  
The student went back to the Hospital Wing and cried a little bit more.


	2. A New Way of Escaping from Oneself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone worries a lot. Some detentions. William enjoys them.

Detentions with Snape were not that bad, if not completely different from those he used to give to every normal student. On the first evening, William Melbourne could not believe his eyes when the Potions Master asked him to brew the potion he missed to transform as a poisonous weapon. Indeed, he froze a couple of seconds as he read the instructions written on the board because he thought he could not handle it at all, but as the Raven did not want to argue with him about psychological aspects on what had occurred, he finally obediently started his brewing – and succeeded. The other detentions went the same way: he came to the Dungeons in one spare classroom and prepared solutions and potions. Some were quite easy to make and therefore were useful for Madam Pomfrey to use on the hurt students, the aim from Snape being to make aware the light-headed boy of his responsibilities and to show him the very usefulness of the Potions discipline. He managed to obtain an O to his essay as well, even though lots of red-inked comments covered a huge part of blank paper left for them.  
Still, the boy had not a real clue about his professor’s goals about this kind of punishments but he liked them anyway. He never told it out loud to anyone, always keeping his thoughts for himself, mostly those dealing with his life and feelings and hobbies – let be clear: he had no much hobbies in spite of his studies and Queen Victoria. Studying more out of class, such as those detentions which somehow completed the usual schedule, were part of his hobbies. It was a bit nonsensical to even conceive who he was, still it was true. William did not know how to play normal games, he rarely played some, the one he preferred was chess game but he barely had other stuff to play during his leisure time. That came more accurate since he had started his fifth year, the OWLs coming up in June, so that there were much more homework to do and sessions to prepare every student of his age were programmed every so often.  
‘Your detention ends here’, Snape announced the last night as he came to William at the same time to watch his cauldron. He frowned and looked again: the potion seemed well-brewed. ‘Did you respect all the steps to make it?’  
The teenager froze a little bit, as if the Potions Master had sensed he did not. He gulped, remaining silent a couple more minutes before nodding negatively. ‘That’s what I thought’, murmured the professor – it was impossible for the boy to hear any reproach from his tone but he was sure he would receive rough comment soon. ‘What did you do, then? I thought you wouldn’t take any liberty to try anything like that since the incident…’ Yes, he might have not tried anything out of the recommendations to brew this potion, still he believed by skipping one step and adding some beetlejuice would have fixed the whole liquid far better and quicker. Besides, he had feared missing it but the final result was satisfying anyway. ‘I… I thought not following step nine and adding beetlejuice would have been good choice’, the Eaglet finally answered quite miserable, feeling his professor’s death glare upon his head. A deep and long silence followed his words, adding more fright to his.  
‘You made the point, I reckon.’ the Head of Slytherin trailed off. ‘Pour some in a phial and clean everything before leaving.’  
William blinked, partly surprised but obeyed immediately. When the moment to leave the room came up, he slowed down a bit, not particularly wishing to go back neither to his Common Room nor his dormitory, his classmates still crossed against him. Snape noticed his whereabouts, hold his tongue from exasperation and finally asked him what was wrong. This destabilized the teenager who stopped halfway his rummaging of his personal stuff into his bag. He bit his lower lip, wondering if he had to be sincere because his professor did not look on the verge to yell at him. He sighed and shrugged.  
‘I think I don’t really want to go back to my room, sir’, he finally admitted, gazing at his bag rather than the Raven. A smirk disrupted the silence, then the weight from a book hit the top of his head.  
‘Face your responsibilities, as a normal person would do. Don’t complain like a child.’ was the answer from the adult. ‘Finish your cleaning, I’ll accompany you to your Tower. And please, fast, I have my survey awaiting for me.’ The student obeyed and he packed the whole in less than two minutes and they were off the classroom and up the stairs.  
‘Testing is part of the potioneer’s job, still you only allow this when you are sure of your result. Hogwarts is not a laboratory and even if I’m qualified to correct every attempt that could be missed I’m not fond of repairing huge ones.’ the professor said half-voiced when both of them reached the fifth floor. ‘Were you sure when you decided to skip step nine and add beetlejuice?’  
‘Er, not one hundred percent sure, sir… I haven’t got your knowledge on Potions’ William answered shyly. ‘I’m not telling that to flatter you’, he quickly added while the Raven smirked again. ‘That’s only truth. I merely read stuff and try to think but I’ve so little experience and...’  
‘Hear, hear, I understand. Don’t waste your breath’, the Potions Master cut short. ‘If I were you, I won’t try this during class. Here we are.’ he finally said when they were in front of the eagle-shaped handle which kept the Ravenclaw’s entrance closed.  
‘Sir?’  
The young man turned towards the student as he was leaving and looked at him, showing him that he had little patience by now, so he had to hurry up if he did not want him to be angry.  
‘Thank you for the detentions and all’ William dared to say, but his cheeks had went red, under his professor’s scrutiny.  
‘Continue like that and I take points’ growled the Head of Slytherin before leaving in the dark and silence.  
*

William swore in his breath when his quill broke in half during Charms lesson next week. Then, he put both parts aside and looked into his bag and found out a pencil, took it and re-emerged from below his desk to continue his writing from what professor Flitwick was telling them. Despite the seemingly-boring theory part of Charms, the boy enjoyed them. That was not totally the same story with Transfiguration, unless professor McGonagall quoted law that restricted her discipline. The teenager never found Transfiguration as useful as other subject but he always managed to obtain acceptable marks.  
Here, they were on the basis of Charming far way huger objects than the mere quill they had to levitate back in first year, the Head of Ravenclaw warning them about the limits of their magical core if they paid little attention to it while casting a spell. The theory lasted until the first half of the course and when the Charms professor asked his pupils to clean their desks and to hold their wand, a background chatter started off, as it was usual in this class, even though students tried not to speak too loudly. They had to Charm a pile of books which looked heavy by their size. The inoffensive books had to become attacking objects with claws and all. Fortunately enough for them, Flitwick knew the counter-spell to avoid incidents, but that badly reassured the teenagers who did not dare try, quite afraid of being bitten by huge History volumes. History hurt only from an intellectual perspective, not literally.  
‘Come on’ encouraged the tiny professor with his squeaky tone. ‘They won’t harm you and won’t successfully become weapons if you only glance at them!’  
William first repeated the gestures they had just learned, then cleared his throat before casting the spell. The Book immediately responded, alive like Frankenstein’s creature, its new claws biting the air, looking the boy’s left hand he rose up in one second before it could do any harm.  
‘Well done, Mr Melbourne’, the professor congratulated before he canceled the Charm and stepped aside to survey another student.  
‘… as if the incident in Potions wasn’t enough, he wanted us to transform books into weapons’, a student mumbled, quite loud for William to eavesdrop, his heart sank immediately, his cheeks becoming warmer from shame. ‘Didn’t we spend too much time in the Hospital Wing yet?’ the same student complained, his mates agreeing in a row. That was too much to hear, so William stepped across a group of classmates in a hurry and ended his way running until he reached the Great Hall and escaped outside. The autumn wind blew over him furiously, drying his wet cheeks because of the tears which rolled down on them since he had started to run. He was sure by now: he would not cope it if it had to last until his final year here. He had not the nerves to take his responsibilities like Snape told him so. Of course he had to face the consequences of his actions, but people’s attitude refreshing his mind each and every time did not help at all. If he could drown in the lake, things would be better for everyone… He stopped the track of his thoughts, his gaze towards the said lake. How miserable he must be by thinking like a coward. He then sniffed a bit more while his tears still rolled down on his cheeks and tried to dry some in the process. He had some difficulty to breathe normally as an addition. Teenagers were rough between them, nevertheless the Eaglet believed they were meaner towards him than any other mate. Apart from that incident he never crossed anyone before, barely spoke to any of them and did not recall having done anything wrong with them as well.  
‘You ought to be in class, I believe’ a sweet voice rang in his hears coming from behind his back. ‘I think a detention is quite right to answer this insubordination, don’t you think Melbourne?’ The student finally turned his heels and faced Snape who seemed particularly delighted to find him here and to punish him, his arms crossed on his chest, his cape slightly floating around his ankles because of the wind which had calmed down a bit. As the boy still said nothing, the Potions Master continued: ‘Tonight, seven o’clock in the Dungeons then. Now, if you please disappear from my view unless you’d like another series for two weeks…’  
William obeyed and went the other way to the Entrance Hall, his mind unable to think properly on the spur of the moment. He had another hour to spare before lunch but he was not in the mood to wait for it so he directly climbed to his dormitory and ended up on his bed, his head hidden in one of his pillows.  
*

‘He just had detention with you’, commented Flitwick after lunch while a bunch of professors talked in the staff room before the afternoon courses.  
‘Maybe but rules are rules and he said nothing to explain why he was skipping class’, Snape answered sharply.  
‘I know it would sound rude but he’s right’, said McGonagall to her colleague from Ravenclaw. ‘And we must remain fair towards every student even if there was no immediate witness, still all his classmates had noted he was absent in History of Magic.’  
Flitwick nodded. He was aware of the Lion’s point of view that he shared but he feared too much of punishment from the same professor would lower Melbourne’s spirits.  
‘I’ll ask him to brew the Skele-Gro for the Hospital Wing, if you’re afraid of what I would inflict him’ Snape snarled, quite bothered from his colleagues’ suspicion.  
‘I thank you telling me what you scheduled for him, but I merely voiced my concern, not my doubts about your possible missing about your duties’ the Charms professor replied.  
*

If only he could remain here, he would feel a bit better. He clearly did not want to go back to his Common Room at all, even less than before. If Elizabeth or Virginia had already inclined to support him anyway, just by coming on his side and chat with him like they did before, he might have considered his situation differently, but as nothing of this sort had occurred, he wished he could spend the end of his days here. It was not that much of a bother to him as he liked brewing potions and was pretty good in the subject. The teenager sighed and recollected his thoughts to concentrate again on the Skele-Gro preparation. Even though he had dealt with other complex solutions and found out this one was not much different from the dozen he had to brew in his previous detentions, he had not the heart to work on it. This inclination was soon noted by Snape who paid particular attention to every of his actions, mostly because he had to do so as referee and Master in this discipline.  
‘Whatever you’re dealing with, may you concentrate enough to brew this properly?’ he asked threateningly.  
‘Yes, sir’, the boy immediately answered back. ‘Better do’ was the Potions Master comment.  
The end of the detention went well, William had followed his professor’s order and he handed him a phial of Skele-Gro to test before validating it and send the whole cauldron to the Hospital Wing.

‘Where were you?’ Elizabeth asked when William came in the Common Room a few minutes later. The girl appeared at least concerned but his classmate did not answer her. He merely shrugged and mumbled a thing like ‘that’s not important’. She sighed because of his tendency to act like this every time she expressed her worries and at that time she thought he needed more attention than before, still she said nothing before in case anyone would reproach her anything. Quite a part of the Ravenclaws were crossed against William, even those from the other years. If he was as intelligent as professors claimed so, he should not have made such a mistake in Potions. That was impossible the other way.  
Then, Elizabeth handed her mate her notes about this morning’s lesson he skipped in order to stay on track in the schedule. He thanked her and climbed to his dormitory to study in a calmer place. When he sat on his bed with enough stuff to write down the lesson, he pulled his curtains with a flick of his wand and dealt with an assault from Orcs back in the seventeenth century until two in the morning.  
The teenager did not mind studying late, his nights quite poor. He usually woke up from a nightmare or only could not sleep at all because of his anxiety and his fear to have night terrors. That was more or less idiot to fear mere bad dreams like a toddler but William was unable to face them, as they were particularly realistic and dealt with a peculiar trauma old of merely close three years. Nevertheless, he tried to give his sleep a second chance when he had finished his History of Magic lesson. He lit off the candle next to his bed with a flick of his wand before covering himself up to his chin with his blankets. Darkness was a bit impressive in the middle of the night as quite no sound reached the teenager’s ears, barely his mates’ slow breathing from a fast and peaceful sleeping.  
*

‘You look particularly tired.’ Flitwick gave as an obvious remark to William during his monthly meeting with the Charms professor in order to talk with his Eaglets privately about their previous school days.  
Both were in the Head of Ravenclaw’s study, drinking tea like the previous meetings, the adult had noticed the boy’s inclination on the famous British drink. Moreover he had acknowledged Melbourne was a bit more comfortable with the prospect of sharing tea with him.  
‘I barely slept last night.’ the teenager admitted in a murmur, his eyes lost somewhere between the desk and the floor on his bottom right sight.  
‘What for?’ the professor dared to ask, his hands joined a bit too firmly to look like he was merely holding them. At first, William shrugged because that was ever so a routine for him to say anything about his troubled nights. Then he took a sip from his cup of tea but he was so nervous his hands shook a little and that was visible from Flitwick’s place. He was as nervous as exhausted and his body expressed itself instead of the boy’s voice and thoughts.  
‘I had to write down my skipped History of Magic lesson, sir.’ the Eaglet finally gave as an answer, not willing to tell his professor about his nightmares out loud as he wrongly thought this was unacceptable as an excuse. ‘And it kept me until two in the morning.’  
Flitwick gazed at him, doubtful even if his student was a hard-worker, he could not believe he had to stay awake until that late in the night to write down a two-hour course.  
‘I have started to learn it and put it in one of my notebooks straight away,’ William quickly added. ‘And it was hard to calm down and fall asleep – even if it was History of Magic.’ he trailed off, a tiny smile at the corner of his lips.  
The Head of Ravenclaw bit his lower lip, thoughtful. Indeed, he knew perfectly well that was not the entire truth because he certainly made the link between the student’s condition and the incident to which he had been the author, maybe a bit faster than his colleague Snape.  
‘How do you do in all your classes?’ he then asked, and the teenager immediately felt embarrassed at once, even his cheeks turned red. ‘Apart from this incident. I assume that we already said enough about it and I had quite good returns from your detentions as well.’ the professor added and concluded, attracting William’s whole attention at once, as he suddenly gazed at him for the first time in this meeting. The boy sighed in addition, his shoulders lowered and he finally concentrated back on his half-empty cup.  
‘Quite well, I guess’ he answered, his voice reached a higher tone, showing he was not sure at all. Next, he immediately thought that classes were not the meaner period of his life he had to endure, as far as he considered his life in this school, still he had to face another kind of bullying when he attended primary school but no one had any clue about this matter here. He might have been so used to his classmates’ behavior towards him that he had tried not to respond for years. Now, he was fifteen and his high thirst of justice had grown up and he finally could not stand his situation anymore. Alas for him, he went against the rules when he defended himself, as Snape reminded him of the last time he put him in detention because of his miniature thunder.  
‘And with professor Snape… Are things okay? Don’t you think his authority is quite...’  
‘It’s fine.’ the Eaglet cut short. ‘I mean… I break some rules so he just does his job.’ he then added and concluded with another shrug.  
The Charms professor nodded in silence while he noted the teenager did not look specifically tense while he spoke. The adult had to put aside his own worries. Since the Headmaster had hired the Potions Master, Flitwick had feared lots of things: first the students’ security, then the young man’s allegiance (and to whom he would have dedicated his allegiance), finally Melbourne’s possible reaction. As far as the new school year’s dinner happened, the tiny man had witnessed his pupil’s puzzlement when Dumbledore had introduced the two new professors. Then, as the Eaglet had come in without his school robes, all the members of the staff had forgotten the latter detail to put the boy in detention because of a rule disrespect. He had yet troubles with those at that time, Flitwick thought while he remembered that day.  
‘As you latest marks give credit to your word and as the discipline had already been spoken of, I may give you the right to withdraw.’ he said while recollecting Melbourne’s papers. ‘But I insist if you need to talk to me or there is any kind of emergency, don’t wait next month’s meeting. Understood?’  
William quickly nodded, put his empty cup on the desk and almost ran out of the study in fear his Head would have tried to go backwards and force him to more chat.  
*

‘Unless I didn’t know my course was particularly boring to death, could you tell me why you are half asleep on your desk, Mr Melbourne?’ professor McGonagall asked in her usual stern tone when something specifically crossed her – this attitude she just described was part of the topics that made her mad at.  
Still, William did not move, only he rose his head up a little to glare at the Lion. Was he… sick, she wondered, her eyes witnessing his reddish cheeks, his pale face and his blurred gaze.  
‘Are you fine, boy?’ she pressed, as she came closer to him. She did not touch him but she could sense the boy’s forehead was hot thanks to her Animagus form abilities. She kept a sigh for herself, nothing was wrong all things considered even though one had to assist the boy about his health like he was a proper infant.  
‘I think wiser sending you to the Hospital Wing. Now.’ she firmly added as the teenager looked annoyed at the idea. ‘You’ll check next chapter only when you’ll feel better.’ she demanded as he was at the door’s threshold. ‘Now, can someone else tell me what we learned so far about transfigurating nonhuman things to tiny mammals?’ the Head of Gryffindor then asked to the whole class before one would have made any comment on what just happened, as she was aware of Melbourne’s worse popularity since the Potions incident.

‘What’s going on?’ Madam Pomfrey asked as William came in a few minutes later. ‘Oh! Lay down, please.’ she pressed him when she could see his condition. ‘Viruses are quite vicious at this time of the year.’ she then commented while the teenager laid down obediently. The matron gestured several flicks of diagnosis with her wand, muttering a few ‘hm’ here and there, so that sounded a bit alarming to the Eaglet who had always felt second thoughts on hospitals and such topics dealing with health.  
‘Stay motionless while I’m picking up some remedy.’ she ordered next and she turned her heels to go to her office where all potions were stored.  
As if he had other plans calling him outside, the student internally sighed, suddenly aware that he was both sore and cold to his bones despite the Hospital Wing’s good temperature. A couple of minutes later Pomfrey was back, holding two phials in her hands.  
‘This is against any typical virus and… This is for your fever to low down.’ she explained to her patient. ‘The last is what you brewed and I daresay it’s well-done.’  
William displayed no reaction to her words. He would have blushed or avoided her eyes in normal period but, here, he did not feel anything at all. The matron said nothing but invited him to drink both solutions as she silently commended him so by giving them to him.  
‘Now, only rest is allowed. I’ll check you up in two hours.’  
He disbelieved her, still he tried and closed his eyes. He then had no memory of having slept fast because he awoke all of a sudden when she came back two hours later as she had said. He recollected himself at once, he surely missed so many hours of calm sleep to be that tired and lower down his attention.  
*

‘Melbourne has skipped a few classes due to his condition – in general.’ Flitwick quickly added as his colleagues watched him, even if professor Binns was absent to ask him to be more accurate. The ghost never worried about his duties and so no one met him at the meetings which took place every month.  
‘Still, he managed to catch up on his missed lessons.’ McGonagall qualified. ‘He succeeded in the last test.’ she added to give credit to her words.  
‘I reckon he’s quite exhausted.’ Sinistra said in addition, mostly aware of her classes’ hours which were pretty late and the only exception made in regard of the curfew. ‘But he tries his best to keep on as my discipline needs peculiar attention.’  
Here, Snape smirked. His Astronomy colleague looked at him and frowned, quite displeased to have been interrupted of that sort. ‘I know that it’s necessary to be attentive in your classes too, professor Snape but be a bit more understandable towards your students. And we are talking about Melbourne?’  
‘True. That is unlike him to do wrong on purpose.’ the Head of Ravenclaw commented. ‘Did he make any further mistake that we are unaware of, then?’ he asked to the Raven, who held his tongue quite upset. Indeed the boy did not make any more mistake. Once was already too much according to him.  
‘None I’m aware of.’ the Potions Master finally replied in a sharp tone.  
The young man looked particularly defensive since he had been here, aware of any of the other professors possible desire to attack him on whatever matter due to his special statute. According to them, he was still a potential Death Eater and always will be whatever he could do and whatever would happen at the trial to come. Dumbledore had already assumed that everything would be fine, arguing that his own testimony would have a certain weight on the Justice Libra, as he was quite influential thanks to his own position at the Ministry. Snape was not that confident but he had said nothing since he had given his fate to the Headmaster’s hands. While waiting for the trial, the Raven had first to worry about his colleagues’ suspicions, which were legitimate all things considered. In other times, no one would dare to hire a criminal to look after thousands of children though.  
‘Melbourne finally double-checks what he does, so I would say that he’s not that much desperate.’ he added. ‘Still, even though I kind of give him another chance to behave correctly, his classmates are not that permissive with him.’  
Flitwick frowned at these words. If the Potions Master said out loud what worried them all, something particularly wrong must have happened.  
‘Someone had tricked his cauldron lately.’ the Head of Slytherin gave as clue.  
Here, he looked specifically threatening, his lips first twisted before they became that thin line, his eyes shining from anger, his whole body quite tense. He had always hated bad jokes, even more when they occurred in such dangerous situations than those in his classes.  
‘I threatened all of them of detentions until the end of the year if the culprit didn’t show up and admit his fault. That’s a pity as they obediently cooperated like perfect stupid and frightened sheep.’  
No one interrupted him to modify his way to talk about the students, it was quite mean though, but what he revealed was far more terrible. That would signify they had to deal with the pupils’ discontentment as it had escalated to a worse level by now.  
‘I will have a word with my students.’ Sprout immediately reacted, quite upset of how things had turned out.  
‘Yours can’t do such a thing.’ Snape commented dryly.  
‘Still, refreshing their minds about some rules won’t hurt them.’ the Herbology professor replied.  
‘I join Pomona.’ the Charms Professor added. ‘The atmosphere in their Common Room is tense actually, but here I have an excellent point to yell at them.’  
‘I’ll say a word too.’ McGonagall joined. ‘Mine are a bit agitated in any case, so inviting them to calm down a bit would be useful.’  
Both Lion and Snake glared at each other with some sort of silent stubborn defiance.  
‘Better do. I have asked mine to act more properly since September.’ Snape said in a murmur. ‘It doesn’t work all the time, I admit it, but I always tell them to be as insignificant as possible.’ he quickly added before his colleagues would strongly answer back, the eternal rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin still real and creating great collusion in the school.  
Since then the most important and urgent part was dealt, the Potions Master exposed the idea he had during one of his nights patrols, he had had some thoughts which would come out as good ideas when he thought at night.  
‘I don’t know if my idea is brilliant so far, but when I heard what were Melbourne’s plans about his future, I daresay I had feared he would lack some skills when he would attend college, so I decided to take him some Saturdays to reinforce his knowledge on Potions so far – in order to fill up possible blanks he would have had developed since he’s been a student here.’  
His announcement nourished a deep and thoughtful silence as no one had anticipated such discipline measures, from the length they seemed to be, mostly astonishing coming from this man, as some echoes came back to his colleagues’ ears like the fact he only privileged the students under his charge.  
‘What do you particularly fear from the London College of Education?’ Flitwick blankly asked, quite surprised. ‘We all know their reputation is unbreakable and the students coming from there are the center of attention of lots of branches of work.’  
‘My aim is not to interfere with them at all, no more the idea to create some diplomacy incidents but I’ve had a look on their programmes and I must admit I almost fell off from my armchair.’ Snape answered back, in a very sure tone and attitude.  
‘Don’t you mind Melbourne doesn’t want to become a Master like you, or he would have written down his desire to attend Potions PhD.’ contradicted the Head of Ravenclaw, his voice half-pitched.  
‘I also thought about his quite interest in the subject in class and I don’t want him to make another mistake like the one he did not that far away.’ the Raven argued, as stubborn as he may be.  
The Charms professor then shrugged, admitting to himself that there was nothing wrong with a spontaneous proposal of private courses, since Snape was somehow right on the points he just mentioned as arguments. And, as far as he knew, the boy would be delighted to spend a bit more time to work on one of his favorite topics apart from detentions. Still, he had to keep in mind not to drown in the boy from too much work as he had OWLs at the end of the year.  
‘We will complete the papers.’ the Head of Ravenclaw gave in, not sharing his thoughts yet. He preferred to have some feedback first before saying them out loud. He just wished his colleague’s idea would be efficient and positive though, as they went to talk about Michael Pitt, another Eaglet.  
Their night would length for ages and they were aware of this. Talking about a thousand student every month was as complex as long, but it was worth it, mostly because they did not want some incidents repeating themselves as they learned their lessons from the previous years. Still Snape was glad about the way things had evolved lately in this school, he felt quite upset because he had wished that was already set in while he studied here. Nevertheless, he only had to go forward and not drown himself in those kind of thoughts. He was a professor now, he did not have to behave like a brat after all.  
*

The news reached William in an unusual way. The following day, during breakfast, the teenager managed to follow most of the students here and tried to have a solid meal for a change. He was sipping his double-length brewed green tea while debating whether he preferred cereals or toasts when the owls started their everyday ballet in a huge sound of tutus made of feathers, hovering, diving and so on and so forth to avoid collusion between them or with a human being. What a delighted surprise when his own owl, a quite massive one, came down to join him, hooting of joy to meet his master – nobody sent the teenager mails so the surprise was double: the visit of his pet and the fact he had a parchment rolled around one of his paws.  
‘Hello Winston.’ the Eaglet murmured while he patted the night bird on the head and then stole some lard from a plate not far from him to give it to said Winston. The owl enjoyed his meal, that was a change from his hunt of mice and other animals. Like his human version, he was a sort of bon vivant. Then, the boy detached the parchment roll and read through it to finally frown and gaped from astonishment. He did not know if this was a joke, it may not from whom it came from though, still it was unusual, clearly unusual. In order to be sure that was true, William dared to glance at the professors table and met Snape gaze. According to the seriousness the man conveyed, it was a real proposal – well, not a proposal but more an obligatory contract. That would be so interesting but the student had hard time to consider the whole thing. Next, he decided to think about it later and preferred to enjoy Winston’s presence for a change before the owl went back to the Owlery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry about Flitwick's attitude. He follows the rules but he is only worried about his Eaglet. That's all.


	3. When William Meets William

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not yet beta'd

The first Potions private course was set at the beginning of December – Snape could not set in earlier as he had other duties keeping him busy all weekends such as detentions. William did not mind though as he also had plenty of things to do with his homework and sessions of work to train for the final exams.  
On that Saturday, the teenager was glad to be busy inside as the snow had fallen down quite heavily for a whole week. Well, he had to reconsider his luck as the Dungeons were like frosting as he felt his teeth choking between them because of the bitter cold reigning in the corridors of the castle undergrounds. Oh my, how the Slytherins could stand it? That was surely why we meet them all covered as if they were going to a North Pole expedition at that time of the year.  
‘Come in before you turn up into a snowman.’ the Potions Master said mezzo voce as he waited for his student at the threshold of a spare classroom, watching him carefully.  
The invitation was well received when the boy entered and immediately felt the temperature difference between outside and inside. He then had a look on the room and noted a desk occupied by a bunch of materials, and after a closer look he saw they were the necessary for any apprentice. He therefore peeped at his professor who smiled like a predator ready to strike at any moment now.  
‘Today, I will pay attention to until what length you know about the procedures. Even if you look quite organized when you attend my classes, I’d like to refrain your knowledge because things in real life are a bit more complex and ordered than in school.’ the Potions Master commented while the both of them came to the desk in question. William went to stand on the other side than the young man and had a more precise look at the material. Some of them were unknown from the general audience from Hogwarts, surely they had not to use all of them until NEWTs, the Eaglet thought. He did not know all the names and all the uses that one could make from what laid on the desk. Still that would be mostly fascinating as his gaze came from a sort of puzzlement to a clear fascinating shade – this change noted by the professor who watched his reactions closely.  
William fetched his bag’s insides to take a pen and a notebook he then put aside the materials and he gazed at the Head of Slytherin for a few seconds to indicate him he was ready to learn more and to reach his own knowledge limits so far. First, the professor asked what he knew from the different objects under study and the boy was surprised to point out a large part of the materials, Snape too was surprised but he did not show it, and had a second thought about his pupil who maybe was a bit more curious than the other dunderheads here and certainly had read a lot of things in the library back then. Secondly went the deducing period about the possible use of the objects he did not know about before correcting him, a bit roughly, and giving him the names the boy hurried to write down on his notebook. William deduced well half the time and when he was wrong, Snape told him he was stupid – as usual so the boy did not mind because rare were the days when the Potions Master did not tell him he was stupid, idiot or light-headed.  
The last step before practice was to indicate when he could use those new materials, still it was a bit difficult to imagine these situations when he had only the theory and not the concrete context but the Raven assured the student he would discover those soon in the following private courses.  
‘Now this had been made, please tell me what do you think you would use as ingredients and materials to brew...’ the professor made a flick on his wand and the name of the potion was written on the board. William frowned when he read it: what was called Draught number twenty-two was a bit mysterious but it was only because some potions still were experimental and the professionals did not yet choose a proper name, still debating on it nowadays. The boy tried to remember what it was referred to because he knew there was a tiny book in the library dealing with those Draughts but the last time he checked at it was ages ago and the last things he had to learn somehow disturbed his remembering process. He sighed at the difficulty he was facing otherwise his professor said nothing for a change, silently waiting any answer. Then, when he boy gave in about remembering further details, he only said out loud what he knew – that meant quite nothing.  
‘I surely expected from you to remember more.’ Snape commented dryly while he watched the board to read what was written when William said each ingredient and material. ‘Did you have such troubles lately or did you hit a wall last night to damage your brain?’  
All of a sudden, the boy froze, clearly that was not what the Head of Slytherin would have imagined as a reaction from now and he decided to put aside his bitter comments and pressed him to explain his behavior. ‘What’s wrong, Melbourne?’ But the Eaglet said nothing, still quite frozen and a bit struck after a quick glance at him again. ‘Was there anything happening to you again?’ the Potions Master asked, his arms crossed on his chest, looking particularly threatening. ‘You have to tell whatever your classmates did against you anytime it occurs, you certainly know that! Don’t think you’d waste our time on reporting things like that. You perfectly are aware that all your professors have a close look on you since all those problems had started to impact on your behavior in class!’  
Surely the boy had not heard about this before by the way he looked at Snape quite shocked, a horror struck painted on his face to be that much surveyed by his professors.  
‘I…’ he started loudly, stuck in his emotion. ‘That… they had…’ he trailed off, in the total incapacity of recovering himself, his anxiety starting to overwhelm him.  
‘Sit down and calm down’ the Head of Slytherin commended. ‘And breathe, for Merlin’s sake or you’re going to have a panic attack.’ The teenager obeyed, still he closely missed the stool and tried his best to calm down and breathe. Tears were at the edge of his eyes, ready to fall down on his cheeks but he made all he could do not to cry because he would be ashamed to cry that easily and in front of the Dungeons Bat. As the young man still looked concerned and willing to know what occurred, William managed to think properly and finally shyly said ‘There were five of them and I was on my way to come back to my Common Room and they tailed me and… I tried not to reply because I remember that if I did so, I would have a detention, so they started to insult me on me being a proper coward then a… Mudblood…’ here, he hardly gulped, his tears dangerously shining. ‘And they told me that it was because I was a Mudblood and a coward that I was a shame for the wizard community and that I didn’t deserve to attend Hogwarts and to possess a wand…’ The Eaglet said in a hurry then breathed sharply, pausing, while Snape nodded to encourage him to continue. ‘And the words were useless for me to understand my lesson so they hexed me and I wanted to avoid them… and I surely hit the wall a bit too strong because next second I realized I was on the floor and they weren’t here anymore.’ he finished so low that the professor had to come closer to hear his final words. ‘And I had a detention because when I managed to reach my Common Room, the curfew was set and professor McGonagall met me so...’ he shrugged.  
‘Didn’t you try to explain her the situation?’ Snape asked then, quite astonished he did not try to defend himself towards the Lion.  
‘I could barely speak’ William squeaked miserably.  
Silence came after this revelation. Snape did not mind, certain that it would be useful for the boy to recover from his emotion because it would be pointless for him to brew a potion in such a state of mind.  
‘I will have a word with her later, and with professor Flitwick.’ he finally said. ‘Could you tell who were the students involved in it?’  
The student only negatively nodded and looked down on the materials before him. He had been so shaken that he did not look carefully. He did not even remembered the colors of their House belongings.  
Again silence.  
‘Maybe I only need…’ William put aside everything which was useless. ‘This?’ he then looked back at Snape who silently nodded in agreement. ‘But I can’t say more about the ingredients, I’m sorry.’ the boy concluded, particularly ashamed of failing that much.  
The young man waved a few moves with his wand and the list of ingredients completed itself on the board. ‘Write them down first. And we will brew it together, so that you will know how a pair can work as you could do in your earlier years. I will only ask you to listen carefully to my instructions and not make any mistake. Understood?’  
William nodded, even though he felt a bit upset that he would not work on his own but in regard of his state, that was wiser to proceed this way and he would have a unique experience to work with a Master, surely the best from Great Britain so… he could put aside his upset, right?

 

*

 

Flitwick was exhausted. The Head of Ravenclaw was in his study and had not yet finished his day even though it was ten o’clock in the evening. The week had been particularly rough, between all the sessions of work he surveyed to prepare the fifth and seventh years for their final exams, the courses themselves and the dealing with an escalation of discipline misbehavior towards Melbourne. The night before, he had the surprise to meet Snape at his door, quite upset and worried at the same time, and as far as he witnessed those expressions from a normally blank face, the Charms professor knew at once that there must have been a great problem occurring. He then had the validation of his fear when the Potions Master told him what he succeeded to pull out from the Eaglet during his private lesson and Flitwick only could manage to fall down on his armchair, in a disbelief way. He finally did not sleep that well, scarcely a couple of hours, still quite agitated ones, and had spent his whole Sunday half worried half exhausted – and yet, he would spend a few hours awake tonight. Even if the Dark Lord had fallen a few months earlier, society, and students here, were still acting like they were stuck in his reign of terror. Nevertheless, this was not the only motive pupils had to harass Melbourne. With time, some had noted he had the perfect profile of the scapegoat and had since then decided to bully him, only because he was so easily to frighten and reach.  
Before coming back to his study, Flitwick had decided to see him privately to talk and he just received tears, sobs and sniffles for a whole hour, as the Eaglet was so desperate and defenseless. It seemed the Heads of House’s general warning to their charges had been useless and that made the adult so angry and powerless. He did not know what he could do to calm down everyone and to help Melbourne so far. The boy had that capacity to escape his professors too, so that complicated things further. And now, as tired as he was, a knot of worry did not release his stomach. He therefore strongly hoped Snape’s private lessons would help somehow, as they had nothing else by now – apart from the idea to invite the teenager to leave Hogwarts and follow school from home with the assistance of preceptors, but he had no home, not a real one, like others. His parents had been assassinated by Death Eaters back in December 1978 and his family being Muggle, from whom the Unspeakables had erased some memories, had refused to take their sibling with them. The poor boy had since lived in an orphanage and did not fit in it at all. He had admitted last year he felt out of place, barely spoke to anyone, had not made any friends, avoided the adults and missed home, his parents, his cat and his routine so much he always spent his days outside to forget where he was for a couple of hours.  
The Head of Ravenclaw was hitting a huge and painful wall by now, Melbourne’s situation being a real nightmare for his professors, and him particularly. He sighed and finally gave in for tonight. He had to try to sleep or he would face a whole week with his condition and his exhaustion would not help to think properly at all. He closed his file before putting it in the furniture behind him and lit off all the candles and the fireplace and left to join his apartments. The knot was still there…  
*

‘Ten points from Ravenclaw and a detention this Saturday’ the Potions Master snapped while William sighed and rolled his eyes, ready to argue but held his tongue, his wand still in mid-air. ‘I know copying lines from the rules paragraph in question won’t help you to understand your misbehavior. Casting spells outside the classes is forbidden, Melbourne.’ he reminded the teenager a bit strongly to scare him to his wits, so that he put back his wand in his robe’s pocket and looked down to his shoes shyly, his desire to argue disappeared at once.  
Snape looked down too and noted the shoelaces were unmade. He then commented it with a smirk. Was the boy so light-headed he was ready to hurt himself from the most idiotic manner? After, the adult conveyed his dark eyes towards the other students with whom Melbourne was fighting. How great this time was! Gryffindors. He threateningly smiled at them who said nothing from now on, his reputation already made in the castle.  
‘Ten points each and detention too but tonight. You will understand what it is for me as a torture to clean your cauldrons when you’re so stupid brats to miss simple potions!’ he added dryly, particularly upset.  
This time he had witnessed a bit of the fight and he had seen Melbourne merely tried, tried, to protect himself or to respond back while he was assaulted by four of … brats – to remain polite.  
The bunch of them started to protest and lie, pretending it was all the Eaglet’s fault and so on and so forth.  
‘Enough!’ Snape came closer to them so that they could clearly shake from fear. ‘If you want to protest, fetch your Head and I will proceed to another series of detentions! Understood? Now, disappear or I transform you into snake skin and use you in my brewing!’  
The culprits quickly ran the opposite, surely to complain to McGonagall, but the Head of Slytherin did not apprehend her possible reaction, certain she would immediately agree with him as far as she would know who was involved in all this mess.  
‘And you, didn’t you try not to do anything?’ growled the professor, meeting again the Eaglet’s face which had turned still. ‘You are so exasperating! If you were that clever you would have understood that you would be punished as well as your bullies as far as the rules are broken!’  
‘I… wanted to avoid the wall, sir.’ the boy finally spoke – to his shoes.  
Said sir sighed, holding his nose with his fingers, thinking he would have a headache soon, his patience very low by now.  
‘Go away. Now.’ he demanded, out of his nerves. Melbourne obeyed at least, he thought while the light-headed dunderhead left the corridor, in that manner he would have wished to be invisible.  
*

The previous mischief had been made on Tuesday, and the following day an incident reminded Snape too much vivid memories at once during lunch time. The brats were noisy as usual and the professors looked after them closely in any case any of them would misbehave while having chats between them and eating. Being a professor was a sport any way, no matter people would say on the privileges from their statute. Let them survive around a bunch of brats and they’d see.  
While Melbourne sat down as his usual place which had been kept by Elizabeth, it had seemed she started to talk to him again since the Potion incident, and he had started to fill his plate with what was proposed on the table when an unknown red light crossed the way to explode said plate, the food contained in it splashing everywhere it could, mostly on said Melbourne. A few Ravenclaws stood up in a row, benches making a sounding reverberating noise in the room, their wands ready to strike back. Whatever they were angry at their fifth year classmate, they still had that unsaid rule which consisted in defending one another despite the circumstances. After the plate, the glass full of water exploded too and a seventh year quickly aimed at the unknown author of the attack with a Leg-Locker Curse. A great thumb could be heard from that and the culprit finally revealed himself. The mischief Slytherin sixth year did not give up that soon as he only spat that Melbourne was only a coward and that he deserved to die like his parents, while Dumbledore, Snape and Flitwick came down from their table to manage the situation before it could turn worse.  
‘Enough.’ the Headmaster demanded threateningly, which was very rare coming from the kind and lenient man. ‘You, up and all of you there, please stop hexing him!’he addressed first to the Slytherin boy then to the Ravenclaw ones.  
All quite obeyed as soon as their Headmaster had spoken, nevertheless a quick move came towards the professors and the Slytherin student suddenly had been knocked off. A few seconds was necessary for everybody to understand what had just been happened. Melbourne was on his feet, shaking from wrath and holding his right fist painfully. He must have stroke hard to knock off an elder and stronger and heavier boy though.  
‘Melbourne.’ the Charms professor exclaimed disbelievingly. ‘That’s not such a thing to do, mostly in front of your professors!’  
The teenager bit his lower lip, tears at the edge of his eyes, breathing heavily as if he had run several miles.  
‘No one… dares talking about my parents like… he did.’ he succeeded in saying, teeth clenched in order to try to control himself now his whole body was visibly shaking. ‘They didn’t deserve… to die at all!’  
‘Now, now, calm down’ his Head pressed him, holding him by the shoulder, while Snape was facing a broken and bleeding nose charge who continued to insult Melbourne for a bunch of generations under his breath.  
‘What am I constantly telling you?’ the Potions Master snapped to his student who stopped at once, suddenly afraid of the young man. ‘I daresay you’re very stupid to act like a perfect Troll because if you continue this way, your parents would be ashamed of you… Unless they are imprisoned soon, as it is expected from them, as far as their behaviors are concerned, so that they won’t care about you at all.’  
‘Severus, that’s not such a thing to tell to one of his students, whatever their background is.’ Dumbledore commented half-voiced.  
‘I deal with those people like I wish, Headmaster.’ his employee replied back in a sharp tone. ‘They only understand threats, so I control them this way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lesson to put in his head far enough he would not behave anymore.’ he finished, pulling the sixth year who complained like a child during the whole time they had to take to come out from the dinner room.  
‘What kind of lesson?’ Flitwick dared to ask, a bit frightened of any silly idea, as far as he knew Snape had a lot of imagination due to his former relations.  
‘Nothing illegal, don’t worry.’ the Headmaster reassured him. ‘He wouldn’t dare so. He knows perfectly how conventional society works.’ he added as the Head of Ravenclaw peeped at him a bit non confidently.  
Now, both men dealt with calming down the whole students who were commenting in a fussy what they had witnessed and Melbourne who barely moved at all, not wishing to come back to eat his lunch and act as if nothing had occurred.  
Noting that, the Charms professor thought better to take him to come out and be away from everybody’s attention. Both fetched their refugee in the adult’s study. The sudden calmness made William’s ears ringing from pain. He therefore let it aside as his breathing slowly became a bit more normal now that he was somehow in security in a place that did not demand too much stimulation. Indeed, the fireplace did but the teenager finally managed to be used to it as he sometimes crept in an armchair close to the one in his Common Room. He came back to present when he heard his Head inviting him to sit down. Better if he obeyed immediately, considering back what he had done in the dinner room.  
*

Next Saturday, William spent his whole day in the Dungeons, in the usual spare classroom Snape and him used for his private lessons.  
First, he had his lesson which lasted until two in the afternoon, the young man had wished to learn him not to behave like he did last Wednesday in his proper way so that the teenager was properly exhausted when he had his detention to attend. Otherwise, he was not alone anymore this time, as a first year came in at around three, quite impressed and afraid. The boy was quite tiny, his hair was a strong red and straight, his complexion pale enough as some red-haired people were, and his name…  
‘Mr Weasley, have a seat here.’ the Potions Master commended the said Weasley with a gesture of his hand. The boy, a Gryffindor now that the Eaglet paid attention to the colors present on his robes, followed the order and sat at the second row of desks on his elder’s left side.  
Then both students exchanged a look and the Lion seemed to recognize William all of a sudden.  
‘Oh, you’re the guy who punched a Slytherin, right?’ he said as if he were talking about weather. His tone destabilized William a bit who glared at him, quite astonished. What had he to say, then, to that kind of words? He tried to remember what his parents had taught him about conversations and politeness but nothing came to him at all.  
‘I’d have preferred he hadn’t.’ Snape snapped sharply as he came to them in complete silence, so that Weasley almost jumped off from his stool. ‘So, Mr Weasley you’re going to remake your potions you missed this week and Mr Melbourne… you’re brewing the potion we studied this morning.’  
William dared to gaze at his professor. That would take the whole afternoon! He surely had been so readable that the Head of Slytherin smirked with delight. ‘Now.’ he finally said as none of them already moved to prepare their ingredients and material.  
When both of them had pretty well advanced in their brewing, the Gryffindor handed the Ravenclaw a hand the last shook politely.  
‘I’m Bill by the way’ the younger introduced himself. ‘William in fact, but everybody calls me Bill for short.’  
‘Hi, my name is William too.’ William replied with a smile. ‘Do you know you have the same name as four great kings of Great Britain?’ he then asked while Bill frowned – oh, he must have been raised in a wizard family, suddenly the Eaglet thought. ‘Sorry, drop it. It’s only Muggle background.’ he finally muttered partly ashamed and his cheeks turned red.  
‘Oh, you know, my father loves everything about Muggles, so I think you’d better exchange a few words with him rather than me.’ Bill answered back, not at all ashamed from his father curious interest, a smile on his face. That positive sign encouraged the elder to face him afterwards.   
‘If you could stop chatting, that’d be better if you don’t want to miss your potions.’ Snape soon reminded them where they were, and both tucked their heads between their shoulders and said in a same voice ‘yes, sir.’  
The Lion soon finished his potion from which he took the equivalent of what could contain a phial before he handed it to the professor at his desk. Next, he greeted William, said goodbye to the Potions Master and left. After the younger departure, the young man got up and came back to Melbourne’s place to ask him where he was in his brewing.  
‘Adding bat eyes, sir.’ he said in a murmur, all concentrated in his task, throwing said bat eyes in the cauldron and quickly plunged his big wooden spoon to brew twelve time in clockwise turn, before waiting five seconds and turning the opposite for seven times and let the potions rest ten minutes as it was indicated. Snape then cast a Tempus to control the time and was satisfied by the respect of it Melbourne had. ‘Better eat something as this potion requires a lot from your magical core and better obey as you look particularly pale.’ he muttered before demanding a House-Elf to come in. The Elf Apparated with a sounding ‘pop!’ and knelt profoundly when he gazed at the Potions Master and croaked a ‘Sir. What does Sir need?’ The young man held his tongue, still ill at ease with the way those creatures acted with wizards and witches. ‘Are cucumber sandwiches right? So, a plate of cucumber sandwiches and tea.’ ‘This will be done as Sir demanded.’ the House Elf inclined again before Disapparating in another ‘pop!’ and Apparating again with ordered plate and tea tray two minutes later and left without a word. The young man never had been bred to be served. He had to obey his drunk father who stroke him with whatever he held in his hand from time to time. His mother had been too shy, too gentle, too afraid to ever try anything to change the situation – and she died when younger Snape was fifteen. Moreover, he had barely noticed the Elves when he was a student here. He had to meet Lucius Malfoy at their Manor when he wanted to work for the Dark Lord that he had been astonished about the creatures’ conditions – Well, Dobby surely was bad treated like a proper slave, even worse all considerations made as he was kicked by his master if he ever made something that made Malfoy angry.  
Even though William was not hungry he picked a few sandwiches under Snape’s scrutiny, reminding himself he had no lunch earlier and did not want to miss his potion due to his lack of consideration about his condition. Then, after the ten minutes had passed, he continued his work.  
He ended the potion at around seven, exhausted to death. He only had imagined that a Master life would be that tiring but now he could relate, because theory was as requiring as practice in this discipline. While he was cleaning his stuff, the Potions Master took this by now calm period to say what had just popped out in his mind, knowing whom student was here: ‘I strongly suggest you taking a rest tomorrow and if you feel very low, go to the Hospital Wing at once. I’m serious, Melbourne.’ as said Melbourne started to roll his eyes. ‘There had been accidents and even deaths because Masters or apprentices had neglected the need to rest.’ Snape insisted dryly. The boy finally nodded in silence. He better had to follow his piece of advice after all.  
The young man had been right from the beginning as William immediately fell asleep as soon as his head reached his pillow.  
*

Screams. Screams everywhere. He saw nothing as if his eyes were blind or himself drown in a peculiar heavy fog which distorted images and odors, but not the screams. They were high pitched, expressed all distress and fear and pain. And he could do nothing but hear those, his fear soon transformed into powerlessness and anger from it, while the screams reverberated all around him. He gulped with difficulty and tried to move on, his ill at ease steps close to make him fall as if he did not know how to walk but the fog did not help at all. Then, he realized the presence of his wand in his pocket. He took it in his right hand in a strong hold and cast a Lumos. That was useless, totally useless. He could barely see two steps before him, still it was better than nothing. He continued to walk in the possible direction from where the screams went, peeing on his right then on his left, anxiety hold in a knot in his stomach. These screams were so realistic and vivid that he soon felt his cheeks wet because of tears that started to roll on them. They reminded him of that terrible night he had wished he never remember until death, but he could not.  
All of a sudden, a dark shadow passed by on his left side and he startled, his heart beating fast, almost erratically, against his chest. He had just sensed it when another shadow went so close to him that the air current created made him fall down on the ground. Taken by surprise, he hit it a bit violently and was sure by now with the strange metallic taste in his mouth that he was bleeding. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. His lips and teeth hurt a lot but it was quite nothing.  
Kill, hissed a voice. Kill. Kill them all. He jumped on his feet, cold sweat moisturizing his forehead and temples. He was sure of knowing that voice and his fear became worse. His body so tense from the beginning started to shake. He could not move anymore, a cry blocked in his throat. The screams were deafening by now and he could not stand it at all. He wished he could call out his mom, but she was the one screaming, he was certain of it.  
Now that he knew where he was and what he was reminiscent of, he succeeded in pulling himself out from this nightmare, otherwise he could not escape from that horrible image, now clear, from his parents dead at his feet.  
*

Wet cheeks against the pillow while he woke up were the proof he had had another nightmare. William took his time before he opened his eyes and rolled on his back, his precipitated breathing still aching him as if he was living that night terror. He remembered his parents’ assassination very accurately but what happened next far less. Nobody knew that after the three Death Eaters had come in at their house had decided to play hide-and-seek with him for a very long time, before they had been stopped by suspicious and threatening noises from outside. The fact that the Dark Mark was shining above the roof of that cottage had attracted attention from the neighborhood, as some wizard families lived there. Someone surely had called the Aurors to come as fast as they could so that saved younger William from death – inevitably. The boy could not remember anyone’s features, anyone’s words, how they dealt with policemen as they had been called too, by the Muggle neighbors. The case had lasted four days and William buried his parents on December the thirty-first. Some members from his family had come but none of them had exchanged a few words with him. They had just ignored him and silently cried over his parents’ grave. Of course they did not recall he was a wizard but somehow, they had kept in mind that their family situation, their family had burst into pieces because of him. They did not like him, they denied him, some even hated him.  
Totally shaken, William had preferred to keep for himself the child game. No one had witnessed it and he was as horrified as ashamed of that, consequently the official version that spread until his professors’ ears was the one stated by the Bureau of Aurors: his parents had been killed in front of his eyes, nothing more.  
The teenager looked absently at the top of the ceiling, trying to calm down his breathing and his mind, still shaken by his nightmare. What time was it? He could not wait a more decent hour to get up, so he did so, covered himself up with a plaid and walked the stairs down to reach the Common Room, then coming out the Ravenclaw Tower and fetch the Hospital Wing at once, remembering Snape’s warning as he felt as tired as dizzy.  
Madam Pomfrey did not reproach him to wake her up at four in the morning. She took time to receive him properly, demanded him to reach a bed and to lay down while she cast some diagnosis spells and finally muttered under her breath that he had better to come down here as his fever and low beatings could have knocked him unconscious on the ground. The matron finally gave the boy a Pepper-Up later in the morning and wrote a note to professor Snape since the Eaglet told her that it was certainly due to his busy Saturday but that he had preferred to follow his piece of advice.  
For once, the Potions Master admitted the student had been cautious and not too stubborn to act like an idiot with his health so he sighed and visited him at around noon to witness he was quite okay.


	4. A Disapproved Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> William's hands become too full at once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not yet beta'd.

The end of the semester was as rough as the previous weeks for William, busy between his classes, sessions of training with mock-exams and his private Potions lessons – when he had no detention to fulfill his whole Saturdays. In fact, he only had one detention until the Christmas holidays since the day he had punched a Slytherin, violent reactions aimed at him had become a routine. The only time the teenager had replied by, McGonagall reacted quickly and had put everyone concerned in detention.  
As soon as Snape had been aware of what had occurred, he had picked up the Eaglet right after his punishment at the Deputy Headmistress’ study to warn him about the potential threat he had to endure by now as he attacked one of them. At first, the boy just shrugged, then the Potions Master had decided to say it a bit stronger and pushed the student against the wall, with a sounding thumb with his head, and whispered in his usual sweet voice, detaching each syllable, that he had to do nothing, absolutely nothing. He finally explained him that even if his charges were still students, they were like grown-up Death Eaters, that was to say: if you reply back at one of them, it was signing your death report. Even your obituary if you were a bit looking forward.  
Snow was everywhere whenever you looked at, the freezing cold making its possible to enter in the castle, until the point the Head of Slytherin asked some help from his colleague Flitwick to cast the Dungeons in order to protect that huge area with strong warming spells. Both men had worked for a whole week as far as they both had spare time to dedicate it with that issue. This made, Madam Pomfrey even announced them that their spontaneous gesture had allowed her to have less people coming at her door for several symptoms due to the bad conditions reigning in the dungeons.  
So William could appreciate a more warm classroom when he had his last private lesson before the two-week break. In order to feed the boy with the necessity of potion making, the Raven had decided to put aside all knowledge he had taught him since the beginning of his tutoring to ask him to prepare as much as possible potions to cure his classmates from the winter’s side effects. The day had been fulfilled with all sort of solutions and that even escalated the temperature of the room until suffocating thirty degrees (Celsius) – or more, as William could not check it at all. The different odors coming from the cauldrons almost knocked him off from faints but Snape made everything he could to avoid it as he broke the stiflingly atmosphere by opening the door, making pauses and even offered the boy to wet his scarf that he rolled up around his nose and mouth from time to time. Finally, the Potions Master even decided to help him in his task in order not to bring him to exhaustion.  
At the end of the day, just before dinner time, both went out of the classroom totally sore and their hair was as greasy as wet of sweat from the conditions they had lived in for hours, their faces had even turned pinkish and their eyes shone from what could be mistaken from fever but it was only because of the different potions emanations that irritated them.  
Just before they separated, the teenager at the threshold of the great hall and the professor would come in by the staff room’s door, Snape demanded his student to take time to hydrate and eat correctly to strengthen back and be in quite good state to face the following days.  
‘If you don’t, Madam Pomfrey would have the pleasure to welcome you at hers.’ he concluded in a threatening tone.

‘Oh my, Will, what did you do to look like...’ Elizabeth trailed off hesitantly while she and Virginia looked at him closely, quite disbelievingly and astonished.  
‘Snape?’ proposed said William in a half-smile. ‘Actually, we worked together all day on different potions to face the end of winter, so it was a bit long and exhausting.’ he added while filling his glass with a relaxing infusion and his plate with noodles and chicken – it seemed that here too, the Asian influence over the British culture had come over.  
‘You look… Different with your hair so straight’, Virginia commented. ‘I never saw you like this before.’ she said half amused.  
‘Because you have the chance not to see me coming out from the bathroom.’ his mate replied with so seriousness that his joke provoked a row of laughs all around them, making her blush a bit vividly.  
‘I didn’t know you had that kind of humor.’ Michael Pitt choked from his burst of laugh. ‘Well done, Melbourne. Now the girls have strong wrong images about you that will haunt them for a while.’ he ended up, still laughing.  
‘I’m all dressed-up when I finish my shower, I don’t know what sort of images you’re talking about.’ replied William.  
He then paused and peeped at all his close mates and suddenly understood the second sense that could be given to his previous words. His face showed them up his understanding, making them laugh harder. ‘Oh, that kind of images...’ he muttered before his pinkish cheeks took a reddish tone. ‘Sorry girls… I didn’t mean...’  
‘That’s nothing.’ Elizabeth said at once. ‘Now, can you explain why Snape is gazing at you like you were a very rare potion ingredient? Because he’s frightening with this gaze...’  
Subtlety was far away one of his abilities, and he did not care about it by now, as the Eaglet immediately turned his face towards the professors’ table and met the Potions Master black eyes. Oh, surely he wanted to look after him. The teenager shrugged to indicate the young girl that was nothing important but he indicated his plate to Snape. The professor’s reaction was his lips becoming a thin line before he made a smirk.  
‘Oh, now, you’re teasing our threatening Bat?’ Pitt asked, half-amused, half-impressed.  
‘No, I only give him evidence and real proof, as he is a pragmatic man.’ William answered before he went completely silent and ate his dinner. Knowing their classmate well enough, the group let him all alone as they won’t attract his attention anymore until the end of dinner. That was how social relations worked with William: most of the time, he was at the edge of people and sometimes he came in and interacted with them the most natural way. No one had been particularly upset with him, as some people were the quiet ones. That was a bit more than that actually in the way the teenager needed some space, some breath to be at ease as much as he could. He did not really like to be in the middle of a crowd, source of noise and disturbances, and had to find refugee in his own mind, his own bubble, his own world to survive with his mates. That explained his constant reverie, his tendency of daydreaming wherever he was.  
So that when all Ravenclaws reached their Common Room that night, the Eaglet immediately joined his bedroom and pulled his curtains to cut himself from the world and to think about Queen Victoria. He always had been fascinated by this tiny woman, her period – well, Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg, her husband, as he participated in the modernization of the great nation that was Great Britain at the time. Remember they were the workshop, the bank and the raw material shopkeeper of the world. Ah, nothing was perfect though, William was aware of it but he loved that historical part of his country and let admit it, whatever he was conscious of the whole situation, he still loved Victoria. And Sherlock Holmes. How perfect was the example from those short stories and novellas to illustrate that Victorian Era! Published at the third and last period, the one depicting Victorian values decadence, the author’s view was more moderate and analytic, sometimes critical, towards his fellow citizens and rough traditional values driven by the upper classes.  
The boy yawned while he was reading one of his notebooks dealing with Victoria. Oh, dear, don’t forget her first Prime Minister to whom she had a deep respect, admiration and even a platonic love, said Lord Melbourne, second Viscount to be accurate, a Whig politician, living at Brocket Hall in the Hertfordshire. Lord Melbourne, Christian name William Lamb. At times, the teenager wondered to whom his parents had thought about when he had been baptized because there were several great Williams occurring in his mind: the four kings of England and Great Britain, that Prime Minister and maybe a lot more he was not necessarily aware of – maybe a late member from his family? Too tired to read further, the student finally gave up his idea to stay awake a few more hours not to face his bad dreams and laid down under his blankets before lit off his candle at his bedside.

*

Hogwarts emptied itself from most of its students at the end of the semester, the young left with the Hogwarts Express on Saturday morning. A sort of rare and sounding calmness reverberated in the corridors and in the different rooms straight away, giving back to the thousand-year old castle its ghostly atmosphere. In fact, total calm was false to consider when it happened at this time of the year as statutes were singing carols all day and Peeves the Poltergeist had more work to accomplish his jokes, hiding in some of them to distort the lyrics and to make bad surprises to anyone crossing his road. And if the Poltergeist had more work to do, it was the same for Filch, the caretaker, who tailed said Peeves because his disability on purpose which resulted on destructing statutes from time to time made the poor Filch having cold sweat, being particularly angry and his constant runnings almost hurt him as he suffered from rheumatism and he was not that young anymore.  
When William walked all alone and met Peeves during one of his mischief, the teenager said nothing and even ignored the distorted lyrics, sometimes smiling at them, not because they were funny but because he disliked those festivities so he thought unnecessary to tell anything or to threaten the Poltergeist to call out the Bloody Baron. Nevertheless, one day the Eaglet thought his last time of enjoying his quite freedom when Mrs Norris came along and gloomily mewed, gazing at him and Peeves with her yellowish lantern-like eyes, her tail biting the air with some sort of contentment. That lasted a couple of minutes before Filch came too, heavily breathing, his cheeks turned red as he ran off to fetch the boy. His smile was the sign of bad omen as the shine in his eyes.  
‘Do you ever enjoy what Peeves does, don’t you?’ the caretaker said in a reproaching tone, his nostrils sneezing from anger. ‘A detention would deserve your bad taste to like what Peeves committed.’  
William opened his mouth to protest because he technically made nothing apart from staying here like a perfect idiot while the Poltergeist got out of the statute he had inhabited and now was floating over Mrs Norris’s head and finally decided that it was better if this dirty cat was having a bath so he cast a pot full of water and threw its liquid on her.  
‘PEEVES!’ yelled poor caretaker, his fist dressed up in the direction of said Peeves who was laughing hard. ‘I’ll fetch the Bloody Baron right now!’ he then threatened, so that Peeves cried back that all of this was not fair at all, still he quickly left, letting William all alone with Filch who quickly eyed back at him.  
‘Seriously, I think that cleaning up the Trophies Room without magic would learn you something.’ he muttered under his breath with that sadistic smile. ‘Yes, I think that’s quite wise.’  
‘Why do you want to waste Mr Melbourne’s spare time with those sort of activities?’ then asked a calm tone behind the caretaker.  
Both the student and Filch twisted aghast and turned to the Headmaster who had come up silently and now was gazing at them with his sparkling eyes as if he was amused by the scenery offered to him.  
‘This boy liked listening to Peeves who was murdering all the carols’ lyrics and he said nothing to stop Peeves in his mischief.’ the caretaker said at once, particularly mad.  
Dumbledore paused and then concentrated his gaze on William who was still and did not dare to meet his eyes.  
‘Did you, William?’ the wizard questioned.  
‘I… Not at all, sir.’ the Eaglet answered a bit too fast to be considered calm. ‘I just… Well...’ he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders, not sure at all of the answer he could give to the Headmaster.  
‘There’s nothing wrong here Argus. He didn’t destroy anything and he made nothing on your cat friend. That’s not the kind of William to hurt an animal on purpose. I believe he just was at the wrong place at the wrong time.’ Dumbledore said, stopping the ill at ease silence that came fast between the three of them.  
Knowing he would not make any difference, the caretaker gave up and turned his heels on the opposite direction, muttering whatever Merlin knew, Mrs Norris on his side, mewing and letting a watering trail behind her while they walked off.  
The teenager followed them with his eyes until a corner hid them and then looked back at his shoes, still ill at ease in the presence of Dumbledore.  
‘I wonder why you did nothing. That’s only a wonder, William.’ the Headmaster said quickly as the boy immediately peeped at him quite afraid of any reproach that would possibly come. Still, he did not answer, a knot blocked halfway in his throat as he was certain there was no real reason to his lack of reaction – feelings clearly were not, true? Nonetheless, he tried to explain it anyway.  
‘I… just don’t like… Christmas.’ he finally succeeded in saying miserably.  
A sudden silence washed over the corridor in which both were standing. William still was concentrated on his shoes and biting his lower lip nervously waiting for whatever reaction from the adult but Dumbledore just was unable to say anything. He totally was aware of the reasons hidden behind that reject of that family and loving moment. A lot of students were facing difficulties and problems, such as grieves due to deaths that hit their families during the war and dealing with the rebuilding of their family boundaries. The Eaglet was one of those but contrary to some of the Muggleborn here, he had no one to see during the holiday at all. During the six last years he had spent with his parents he had lived Christmas all alone with them. Now that he was an orphan, no possibility to live with any sibling was made. Indeed, that was not the only student here who had to stay at Hogwarts as there were so different family constitutions that had blown up. Nevertheless, Flitwick had expressed some concern about his charge far from his second year and every professor was attentive with him – as far as he had developed some preoccupying behaviors. Since the boy was the quiet and lonely and isolated one from nature, they had to be cautious and double-checking everything he would make in the castle. And when they did not, they tried their best to recollect every word and action he had made, like on November the first when the news about the Dark Lord defeat had been displayed here.  
‘Had you any plan, then?’ the Headmaster finally broke the silence. ‘Would you like to drink some tea at my office?’ he next asked when the teenager nodded a ‘no’, as he was just wandering about aimlessly. That proposal worried him though but he did not have the fancy to refuse it – and he liked tea, as Dumbledore himself often offer original drinks and always shared some to anyone invited in his office.

*

‘Oh, dear, I was wondering if you ever had a problem.’ the Deputy-Headmistress exclaimed as far as Dumbledore and William entered the office. She was up, maybe she had walked on over the main room that constituted the place while she was waiting, but now that the student had a complete view of the scenery, he could see that all the Heads were waiting too all seated on their Chintz armchairs and had turned their heads towards the two newcomers. He quickly froze at once, wondering if it was the good time for him to pop up in the middle of what seemed to be an important meeting. Otherwise, the Headmaster erased his unsaid worries when he cast another same-like armchair for him to sit down and a new cup of tea that was immediately filled with hot tea before he invited the young to properly have a seat with a large gesture from his hand, totally ignoring the Lion’s own worries. The old wizard finally went behind his desk and sat down too while William made his possible to be as insignificant as he could under his professors’ scrutiny and all dedicated over his cup of tea. How could the boy put aside his tendency to over-stress on everything? Nevertheless he tried not to display much of his feelings but it was a naive process face to professors who had several years of experiences of dealing with teenagers and two of them being excellent Legilimens. Dumbledore soon gazed at William and smiled to calm him down even though the others still looked stern or crossed as if the boy had made something illegal.  
‘I admit I may have abused of my influence to invite you to drink tea with me.’ he said, his hands joined and laying before him on his desk. ‘But I know that if I directly told you why I wanted to see you, you would have panicked a bit too fast and I need you to be in all your spirit possession.’ he then explained all serious.  
That change of tone and attitude astonished the boy who finally left his contemplation of his cup and now watched Dumbledore, his eyebrows frowned. He next could glimpse at the other adults who suddenly became more tense, if that was possible as they already were tense, even Snape seemed gloomy. William recollected himself and offered his most concentrated and neutral face.  
‘Good. So I wanted to ask you an assistance… A really important one actually – and even though my colleagues disagree with me, I daresay that your help would be useful and capital for… Okay, you know that the Death Eaters trial comes soon, in January, and Severus here will be one of those who would have to be judged.’ Dumbledore stated to offer the teenager the context before exposing said help. ‘And I constituted part of the defense so I’m collecting all testimonies I can to prove that Severus is a truthful person, a man who had certainly made mistakes but is taking back on right tracks. My confidence towards him is complete as I hired him in September. Even if the Ministry cannot interfere in that power of mine to select and hire people to teach here, the public opinion is quite… not in favor of the idea that their children would be taught by a criminal. Therefore I asked my fellow colleagues to write testimonies about Severus to prove he is the right man to teach Potions and he is a truthful person.’  
A specific shine appeared in William’s eyes indicating to the adults he had understood Dumbledore’s plan.  
‘Yes.’ approved the Headmaster with a nod of his head. ‘As you spend more time in his company than all the other students instead of the Slytherins, I wanted you to do the same, that is to say write a report about how Severus is a good person at the end despite his potential former… activities.’ he proposed as word to sum up Snape’s recent past. ‘I admit it’s a huge responsibility to demand you and engage you on be part of a trial that you may not want to be in at first hand… I would understand that you said no, but if I may insist on the issue...’  
William stared at the old wizard for a whole disturbing minute, his sky-blue eyes could unsettle anyone, then he did the same with his professors and all expressed a strong and definitive ‘Don’t.’  
‘Does the mail start as ‘The undersigned, Mr William Albert Melbourne, declare that’ and so on and so forth then?’ the Eaglet questioned after another block of silent and disturbing minutes.  
Dumbledore could not hide his relief but he nevertheless tried not to display it too much as McGonagall coughed from disapproval, Sprout gaped and Flitwick stared at him back while Snape neither moved nor produced any word or sound. The young man remained still like a statute but his eyes spoke for himself, hesitating between astonishment and disapproval like his colleagues.  
As the situation slowly but surely came deep in William’s mind, he suddenly stood up, put the cup on the corner of the desk nearer to him and apologized to withdraw so quick, as still as the Raven.  
‘Are you sure you are fine?’ Dumbledore asked in a half-tone.  
‘Perfectly fine.’ the teenager answered fast, almost cutting his Headmaster and trying his best not to shake either his body or his voice which would say the contrary but no one was naive to believe him as his sudden desire to leave was actually a runaway. Before anyone could keep him more time he already disappeared, the front door shut strongly it reverberated in everybody’s body.  
‘Are you certain that was necessary to inflict him that as far as you perfectly knew he would agree to help?’ Snape finally commented dryly, eyeing Dumbledore with his so-called death glare.  
‘Do you develop some concern about William, Severus?’ questioned back the old wizard, not at all destabilized by his former student.  
This reply almost pushed the Potions Master out of his nerves as he got up all of a sudden, his face paler from restrained anger, his fists clenched and his black eyes demanding not to go further in all of those stupid statements he despised the most.  
‘I have other duties awaiting me if you allow me to leave.’ he then said all threatening, turning his heels and left even before any of the other professors said a word. He slammed the door too.

*

Since he had accepted to help Snape’s defense, William felt that his holiday was gloomier than the two previous years, apart from the one in 1978 when he had buried his parents. The teenager had that constant sensation that a heavy weight of sorrow and pain was over his shoulders and those sensations also were breathable in the air. He tried to overcome them by staying in his dorm all day and do his homework as much as he could to distract his mind, but they came back like sneaky people during the night and whenever he went down to the Great Hall to eat and drink and met his professors – most of them had finally left too to enjoy their break with their families. But crossing both Dumbledore and Snape’s paths was a painful reminder of his promise and he did not dare to look at them, because he did not succeed in writing this bloody report yet, lots of thrown drafts accumulated on his bed. His defeat was crushing his limbs so hard that he almost cried several times, wanted to give up and too many bad memories from that night haunted him even during the day. However he was able to separate those three Death Eaters and his professor on an intellectual perspective. He recognized in him some positive human qualities – or sides – that surely convinced the Headmaster to hire him and willingly admitted that the Raven’s Master’s Degree helped him much during his Potions private lessons. He even was surely the best and only man to prepare the young to succeed in his future studies. So the ideas did not lack but the teenager disliked all his attempts to write them down. He wanted to be as clear and honest as sounding lawfully correct in his words – that was quite an epitome as the law was as blurry as tricky.  
The Eaglet sighed from the back of his lungs and tried to stop possible tears with the back oh his hands. An interesting pile of parchments was forming a Pisa Tower in front of him before he kicked them off as he stretched his legs and decided to give up for today and laid down on his bed to have a nap. To say that he was exhausted was a euphemism. He rather looked like an Inferi than a proper human being aged fifteen.  
Having a nap while you still were thinking hard was impossible to handle. He turned either on his side or on his back a couple of times, trying to find the best posture to succeed in sleeping but he rummaged so much in his mind that he finally opened his eyes and now stared at his curtains – even if he was all alone in his dorm, he still had that reflex to pull his curtains to cut himself from the world.  
He knew all defaults by heart because he had spent his four first years to watch this curtain for a while from time to time. House-Elves surely had tried their best to give it back all its perfection, still William could see where they had been, his photographic memory quite good. He sighed heavily again, his thoughts running fast, trying to make order in them – he suddenly felt that something was missing in his reasoning. Said that the situation dealing with Snape was incomplete and the Eaglet just became aware of it. Why not hiring a Death Eater as professor here, but… Even before the Dark Lord had been defeated by that Harry Potter baby? That did not make sense. All logic considered here, the old wizard would have waited his Nemesis had fallen to hire a former Death Eater, as the Potions Master had been while he still was a Death Eater. Had the Raven decided to go backwards earlier and asked mercy? For what motive? Was it even in relation to what happened to the Dark Lord? Was everything interrelated?  
There was one of the very few comments Snape had stated which came back to mind to comfort William in his thinking: luck and coincidences never exist. That summed up the pragmatic typical British citizen who did not believe in all this crap from tales, divination and other stuff. If that would be applied to the wizard side and self-proclaimed Lord, William would assume that Snape’s hiring was linked to Potter’s exploit but there were too many holes in his reasoning to even understand the situation better.  
And who was he to think about it? If nobody seemed to know the possible real reasons which motivated Dumbledore to hire the Potions Master, why he, a mere dunderhead, would try to recollect every clue he would like to? Was it not better to keep them a secret? Was it a some sort of desire to keep them secret because they surely were dangerous? Certainly, if that concerned the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. And a baby who survived a Killing Curse.  
The teenager gulped. That must have been terrible for the baby. Another question fast came to him: where was said baby now? That had not been mentioned in the articles dealing with that dread night. Then, why… How was it even possible? Later newspapers still were wondering how a baby who had no conscience of his magic potential could have possibly killed one great and powerful dark wizard. Now, William started to have a headache due to all this mess. Could anyone here, Dumbledore more than any other professor, answer his wonders? Oh, drop it he immediately thought. He won’t answer anything… All was clearly blurred on purpose. Not sure that the people who would hold the trial would like this.

*

‘I don’t like the gaze he casts at us.’ Snape muttered under his breath to Dumbledore during one dinner before Christmas. ‘That’s the kind he had understood something but not entirely, still he’s thinking about it and defies us on it.’ he continued while the Headmaster fainted to be interested in everybody present in the Great Hall to have a glance at his employee’s preoccupation. Melbourne had that unsettling sky-blue eyed gaze upon them every time they met.  
‘Did you try to find out what he had understood?’ the old wizard asked then in a same murmur while he was drinking his tea.  
‘I’m sure you would have refused that I use Legilimency on this boy.’ the Potions Master replied in a snap, not hiding at all his irritation. ‘And there’s no reason for me to keep him in my office as he doesn’t break any rule in my presence and the holiday is holiday so I won’t dare to plan any private lesson… Flitwick would have given his veto on the motive his charge needs rest.’ he continued, still dryly, the corners of his mouth twisted in scorn.  
‘You’re certainly right.’ his employer admitted, now holding his hands together and adopting a meditative posture. ‘I think it’s a bit early to worry about what William ever guessed. We have to wait for the moment but we must keep in mind that William is quite brilliant for his age…’  
‘I keep my word about the help you asked him: that was unnecessary and out of purpose.’ Snape cut short. ‘And I’m certain that thing had motivated him to wonder and find some silly ideas that now give him that look.’  
‘Do you have second thoughts then? I think you can handle William’s attitude towards you as you have known worse.’ Dumbledore commented with a smile.  
Snape grumbled an unintelligible sound and kept his mouth closed for the remaining of the dinner.

*

This sort of gloomy atmosphere lasted all the holiday, even during Christmas’ Eve and Christmas meals. The great Christmas trees that were standing proudly in the Great Hall were of all beauty but they could not hide the ambiance in the room at all. The problem with a society who had lived a war and the aftermath of it was that the terrible consequences of it could not be eluded and remained in all spirits for a long period of time. One could read the same kind of expression on every student’s face and that made an echo to the ones the professors had. Consequently, the general tone of those two days was calm and sober, and even if the professors tried to give them some joy they remained discreet.  
William did not glare at anyone, stuck in his own bubble – everybody had to come to share the Christmas meals as Christmas was meant to share friendship, love, tolerance and so and so forth. But William was not that much used to those ideals, which sometimes made him smile cynically, because the only thing he missed the most was his every-year Queen’s Speech broadcast every December the twenty-fifth at four in the afternoon surrounded by his parents and his beloved cat Nightingale. Nothing could overcome those precious memories here, not even magical aspects that wizards had postponed on a Muggle tradition.  
Chatters were low and even a bit awkward around him. No one was crossed that he was daydreaming on his own, each person trying to enjoy the meal anyway with their own abilities to face a normally joyful moment when their hearts were not in the mood at all.  
‘… Pass me the salt, if you will give up that stupid dreamy expression out of your face?’ snarled a voice.  
William suddenly came back to present day to meet Snape’s dark eyes and gave him that saltcellar he needed before he interpreted his professor’s gaze and understood that was a trap. He then restrained a sigh and to roll his eyes up. Knowing that the brat had finally understood, the Potions Master twisted his lips to the most sadistic smile he was able to produce – a Slytherin in all his possessions, right?  
‘Did you finish your report?’ the young man asked in a half tone in order to keep this secret from the other students. Oh, right, a perfect Slytherin as he asked the question he had not to because William’s limbs froze at once and he became so still that the Head of said Slytherins noted it and smiled even more.  
‘Not yet but I have a bunch of questions about why professor Dumbledore hired you before the Dark Lord was defeated because that is out of all logic from me.’ the boy decided to reply back not wanting to be the only one ill at ease, quite upset from the way the adults acted with him lately.  
And he perfectly succeeded, surely would have been an excellent tutor to the most shy Slytherins then, or it was his high Ravenclaw tendency to think, learn fast and watch things carefully without giving a clue of those abilities. Said Head of Slytherin became paler, the corners of his lips were shaking from any emotion unknown to the student here but he knew he had hit where it hurt.  
‘Did you… miss my… detentions that much to… be that disrespectful?’ Snape hissed all upset.


	5. The 1982 Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not yet beta'd

Snape had the decency to wait after Christmas had passed to demand a private meeting with Dumbledore on the motive it was an emergency. Consequently both men were sitting in the Headmaster’s study on Boxing Day, tea replaced by a strong Firewhisky. The young man was sure to deal with what haunted him with alcohol and not one of Dumbledore’s fancy drinks as the latter had demonstrated his originality until brewing teas. Silence set in for a couple of minutes, quite stiflingly for Snape who expressed his nervousness by tapping on the arm of his armchair with his fingers, his other hand holding his glass with a strong grip. Dumbledore waited enough time for he could consider his employee completely. From the old wizard, the Head of Slytherins was at the verge of spitting either anger or anxiety, maybe both feelings simultaneously. He had been worse the famous night of Voldemort’s defeat but he was near that state of mind. This questioned the great rival of Grindelwald because very few things actually disturbed his former student. Till the point he would ask to drink alcohol, in regard of his past and his disgust of drunk people since then.   
‘What is disturbing you that much, Severus?’ he finally broke off, watching him carefully.  
The Potions Master eyed at him with that dark and death glare of his own, still wondering how he could express his issue without shouting. Then, he gave up all dignity and falseness due to his habit not to display any emotion while he had been a proper Death Eater. Therefore he sighed deeply and held his forehead with his hand which was formerly taping the furniture. Next, his hand slowly came down over his face to show his exasperation, his powerlessness, his worries and his anger not to control each aspect of his life. Not less.  
‘Melbourne had understood that you surely hired me on other motives than the sole reason of I redeeming to go back on tracks.’ he answered, each word reverberating all of his feelings at once. It was so painful for Dumbledore to witness the kind of distress his employee was expressing that he felt sorry for him through his blue eyes. ‘Indeed I’m… I am all aghast because...’ he trailed off, hardly gulped and helped his throat to relax from the pain hurting it by a long sip from his Firewhisky. ‘Because it’s Melbourne and because he is so close to the truth that I wonder if we even could keep him away as long as he is alive.’ he concluded, all defeat making him crawling in his armchair like he were a very old man tired of living.  
The Headmaster meditated the young man’s words for a second and he finally gave signs of exhaustion and worry as he took off his glasses he then put on the desk before him and sighed too.  
‘In fact, I was almost certain he would understand.’ he admitted slowly. ‘Moreover, I think too that it would be a mistake to keep him away as long as he is alive.’ he immediately completed as his employee was ready to reply vividly, halfway up on his feet, anger painted on his face. ‘Still he is only fifteen, I reckon, but William would be useful one day or another. Wait, Severus, hear me. He is clever, whatever you think of him. He takes time to think calmly even though he had shown some impulsiveness. He is attentive to what seems odd around him despite his constant reverie. If he had wondered about your hiring, that is only because he found out that it was illogical to him and he is right anyway.’  
‘I accepted your proposal and your help not to deal with that kind of situation.’ Snape succeeded in saying, spitting even, his voice all shaken. ‘I accepted everything… because I told you so but I never thought that Melbourne’s intelligence to understand what he ought not was part of it!’  
The Headmaster said nothing, perfectly aware that it was better the Potions Master freed himself from what worried him before they could talk properly. Emotions could disturb our thinking and the ones inhabiting the young man were overwhelming him. Therefore any serious discussion could be done from now on.  
‘And I don’t want him to be more involved in the war than he is actually! He had seen his parents dead and I don’t think wise telling him that he has an interesting profile to be part of the resistance! Not even because of his age but because he is unable to handle that sort of things!’ the Potions Master shouted, now his whole body shook slightly. ‘If you ask him so, he would jump off the nearer bridge! He can’t deal with other brats who became more violent towards him lately.’  
‘I am perfectly aware of his recent visits to the Hospital Wing.’ Dumbledore said in a half tone. ‘Other students are dealing with those hostilities too because of that ideology which is in conflict against who they are. Now, if you please let William help you for the trial. We will see later details about the right time.’  
Snape had no other argument to offer and he was now so tired from his emotions that he only sat down heavily and kept an upset silence to drink the end of his Firewhisky glass. From the other side of the desk, the old wizard respected that new silence but he could not help but watched his employee carefully. Whatever he would act and say about Melbourne in the castle and his classes, he had expressed his worries and concerns in the privacy of that office. Whatever distance due to his position as professor and the ethics coming from it he had placed between him and the teenager, the Head of Slytherins still had some sort of kindness towards the young. It was well hidden though but the Headmaster could feel it anyway. The Raven certainly was conscious of it, surely considering it as a weakness, and he simply was afraid of that perspective. If he had not been an excellent Occlumens, Voldemort would have used it as a weapon to torture and kill him with no remorse. Consequently, Dumbledore hoped his employee would hide it well when the Dark Lord would come back because the Headmaster was sure he would. He could not conceive his enemy to die like the way he had seemed to.

 

*

 

On December 27, William spent the whole day in his bed. His low mood had taken all his strength and he could not imagine spending his day like it was a normal one. The teenager loved to cuddle his pillow when he was particularly depressed and not have that kind of pressure life could force him to endure. He therefore felt in his right to stay in his bed and not pretend everything was fine. He was not so why playing a bloody role? He had not slept from the previous night because every time he had closed his eyes, he had been under Queen Mab’s hands and he had to face his constant nightmares which continuously displayed his parents’ assassination. Consequently, he had woken up very early on that morning, cold sweat on his back and temples, his throat dry and the corners of his eyes burning him as if he had cried all night. Nevertheless he had not come down to the Common Room to sit down on one armchair which was close to the fireplace to warm himself up. He merely had a shower, changed his clothes and came back to bed. However, now that noon had passed by for a while, his body started to give him signals that he needed to drink and eat, all dizziness washing him up. Still, the Eaglet did not dare to get up in the fear to fall down immediately, so he stayed here like a perfect idiot. That was a vicious circle as minutes went by and his state worsening itself, but he had to do something to change that or he would end his day in the Hospital Wing and he did not want to come down there at all. However, lunch time had ended so he had to wait dinner to grab something to eat and the wait seemed so long that he felt more depressed than he initially was. The student finally came to the Great Hall with his face wet from tears which had fallen down in the while and he did not have the courage to hide those to anyone.  
The room was as silent as it always had been during holidays but being aware that a dozen people down there feared him a little bit. He had come in with his head ducked in his shoulders and his gaze watching just before his feet just in case he would knock something on his way to his place. He then was the figure of miserable.  
Nonetheless, his evening would sound better because he had just put some soup in one bowl that professor Burbage* came to see him. William rose one eyebrow in surprise, as he never went to her classes. The witch had taught Muggle Studies for a couple of decades for the students who wanted to, her subject being optional. Indeed, despite of blood statute, the woman had shown some inclination to respect the Muggles and by extension Muggle Born wizards and witches. Consequently she had heard from her colleagues that Melbourne was one of those proud of his origins and not hiding them.  
‘Hello.’ she said with a smile and sat next to him. ‘Are your holiday doing fine?’ she asked politely.  
The teenager wondered if he had to be honest but he did not want to share to her any of his nightmares and other things as well. He then thought that his general state would give a proper answer so he preferred the elusive approach.  
‘Quite so, M’dam.’ he muttered. ‘What do you want to tell me? ‘Cause I never attend your classes, so...’ he added and shrugged while she looked at him in surprise, not used to face a student who was that direct with her. Indeed, it was true that her willing to talk with him was not about holidays. She smiled again and nodded in silence before satisfying his curiousness.  
‘I’m teaching my third years the symbols of Great Britain and I heard from Filius and… curiously from Severus, that you’re well informed to all constitutes the Muggle British society.’ she explained to him, her face shining from the passion animating her. ‘I just wanted to check if I don’t miss anything with them because I think it’s vital to understand the Muggles from what constitutes their identity as a society and I reckon the books are not that precise on those details.’  
William paused, as he would have criticized the authors of those books a bit too vividly to remain polite.  
‘I guess you’ve started from the symbols as a beginning.’ he thought aloud, she validating with another nod. ‘So, there are the Monarchy, with the Queen and her family, the pound – the British currency…’  
‘Oh, I wanted to know if you had some Muggle money on you.’ she cut short all of a sudden.  
The Eaglet nodded in agreement, then he drank a sip of his soup which had time to be cooler. ‘I always have some pounds in case I wander about in a library or so and can afford a book that interests me M’dam.’  
‘Would you like the idea to show them up at the beginning of the term?’ professor Burbage asked excitedly. ‘I have the third years on Friday afternoon, the last hour of the day.’  
How could they possibly stay awake at that period of the week on matters that wizards despised normally, the student wondered. Ah, the difficulties of dealing with timetables and pupils’ mere interest and excitement…  
‘Unless I have a detention, I’m free.’ William slowly said, so serious that his joke became more hilarious to the adult who had a laughter hardly handled as she had received quite a traditional education and bursting out from laughter was not what we called well-educated.  
‘Yes, I’ve heard you had some with Severus, but I would deal with him about it if necessary.’ she quickly replied her face beaming from the perspective of showing her students real objects from the Muggle world. ‘Then, I guess you know… Oh, how’s the name? Yes! God Save the Queen?’  
‘By heart, M’dam.’ William smiled back. ‘But I prefer to recite it than to sing it.’ he completed shyly, but it did not frustrate the professor.  
‘Deal?’ she concluded, offering him a hand to shake, that he grabbed willingly.  
‘What contract with the Devil did you sign?’ Snape asked mockingly when Charity Burbage came back to sit down at the staff table.  
‘A very funny one, Severus.’ she answered, her good mood not at all upset by his colleague’s strange humor. ‘I think my students will like their course if Mr. Melbourne visits us.’

 

*

 

New Year’s Eve was as dull and depressing as Christmas and the 27th from William’s perspective but he did not stay in bed for a change. His duty had kept him awake three days in a row, he was pretty exhausted and anxious but he had to hand his report for the coming trial and he did not want to deceive both Dumbledore and Snape. Therefore he went to the library and worked on his testimony a huge part of the day. He first listed his ideas on one of his notebooks then he borrowed a Law textbook that was at the students’ free handle and skimmed at it until he had a headache. Even though he had had a sort of fascination towards the complex world of legislation, such as a strong disgust because it was obviously dull and unclear on purpose, dealing with that specific language could tire anyone who was not that familiar with it. Headache telling him that he needed a break and to eat something as well even if he was not hungry. He grabbed all his stuff and put it haphazardly in his bag before coming down to the Great Hall. Thankfully, lunch time was not over, the time had been enlarged during the holiday. William stopped at the threshold when he saw Hagrid holding a baby thestral in his arms while he was chatting with professor Flitwick who had just came back from his Christmas break. The teenager never dared to say that he could see the thestrals now to anybody and even if he since had checked on a Care of Magical Creatures book what those animals were and been used to them, he still could not control a small shiver taking him at his backbone. He gulped and finally walked towards them to have a closer look on the baby which surely was shaking from the cold outside.  
‘Oh, Will! How d’you do? See, I’ve found out that baby in the Forest and I daresay that he lost his mother. She was nowhere around so I took this poor little thing with me before he could freeze.’ Hagrid said in a row, his face showing how happy he was to save and look after the creatures living in the Forbidden Forest.  
‘Better than him, I guess.’ the teenager answered, pointing at the baby thestral. He then came in in a hurry because he had sensed that the Charms professor would wish to talk to him privately and he clearly was on the mood not to talk to anyone.  
Another surprise awaited the student as his owl was patiently cleaned his feathers, a newspaper tied at one of his paws. He immediately cheered his master when he came to him.  
‘Sorry, lad, I was at the library.’ the boy muttered to his pet while he grabbed the newspaper to free Winston and then patted him gently. Next he sat down and gave his owl some food, enjoying his presence before he glanced at the Daily Prophet’s front cover.  
The Daily Prophet, Thursday December 31st 1981  
Historical Trial Holds this January: the Death Eaters Finally Sentenced  
The Complex Case of Severus Snape: the Potions Master had been hired whereas he still was a potential active criminal. Our reporter answers your legitimate wonders  
Testimonies from anxious parents  
William frowned and felt a slight bubble of anger growing up in him before he opened the newspaper at the page which interested him.  
When the new school year had begun, a great surprise awaited the students who, for a few hundreds of them, immediately wrote to their parents because of the Headmaster’s hiring of a very peculiar man as Potions professor. Indeed we all were aware of professor Slughorn’s retirement on last July but we did not think that Dumbledore’s choice would stop on a potential Death Eater to occupy an important post. Not only Slughorn retired from a teaching position but he also let a Head position vacant; the Head of Slytherins: in short, a very delicate job. Was it even wise to let it in a hypothetical criminal’s hands? What could have happened to the Headmaster when he had decided to hire Severus Snape? Did he only look at the young man’s diplomas? Let be clear: our new professor had attended the Potions Master’s Degree and brilliantly succeeded. He even obtained his diploma with one year in advance, to tell how brilliant this mind is. That is surely the reason why he would have been approached by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Even though his indisputable skills could help the students to keep an excellent education at Hogwarts, we still have doubts about this hiring which certainly is too early to happen as the trial holds only on January. It means that Dumbledore hired a ‘criminal’ to look after thousands of innocent children as Snape had not been discharged from his ‘crimes’ yet. In regard of the laws ruling this country we daresay that this hiring is close to be illegal, but as the laws say, we cannot prove he is the author of said crimes. We need to wait an enlightenment before judging if the Headmaster had made something illegal or not.  
Most interestingly, we finally knew that Dumbledore had constituted part of the defense, which is not much a surprise as his own position is under the scrutiny and wondering of the Education Chairmen. Consequently, this trial has a double issue, dealing with the education of our children. We are waiting for Snape’s trial as we are wondering what the Headmaster had prepared for his employee’s defense, no doubt that he would use his powerful influence to gain what he wants.  
William threw the newspaper away. It produced an interesting ‘thumb!’ on the table and as there were only a couple of persons in the dining room, the sound clearly and sounding reverberated. That immediately attracted everybody’s attention on the teenager, who now had got up, his fists clenched, trying to restrain his sudden anger. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly to calm down, perfectly aware of his anger’s uselessness. He had to put it aside and privilege his motivation to end up his report. It was an emergency by now, that’s how he felt it. The drafts still were in his bag, his scanning of the law book pending. After the reading of the article he knew where to find out his main arguments. That was stupid to react that way but if they wanted to play with the laws, he would give them what they desired: the judges, the audience, the readers of the Daily Prophet and the journalist who wrote that article.  
His meal under his eyes did not taste to be eaten. The Eaglet wondered for a second if he had to eat first before leaving but he still was not hungry. He gave up, grabbed his backpack and left, ignoring everybody’s gaze over him.  
‘I think I am right if I say that William felt concerned about the article dealing with you.’ Dumbledore muttered to Snape who remained still, trying to keep his feelings at bay.

 

*

 

William flipped the pages of his borrowed book to end on the Educational law section and immediately took notes on what interested him. Then he scanned his drafts and wrote another series of draft, he hoped the last one. The afternoon went by all fast to the point Mrs. Pince had to chase the teenager out of the library. The way back to the dark and silent Ravenclaw Common Room felt like gloomy and stiflingly to the Eaglet who slightly shivered from apprehension. He quickly sat down at a study desk next to the fireplace and continued his work for a couple more minutes. All concentrated in his task, he skipped dinner time and kept writing again and again while the wood cracked from time to time. He finally felt drained when he finished. Exhausted as Hell, reaching the closest armchair was a painful trail but he succeeded in and crawled himself in, his legs stretched before him. He did not feel dizziness catching him up and he started to sleep at once.  
Professor Flitwick looked at the room once more but there was no doubt: Melbourne illustrated himself from his absence. The Head of Ravenclaw peeped at Dumbledore to silently ask him if he could leave the New Year’s Eve dinner to go to the fifth floor at once. The Headmaster nodded and his employee got up and went out of the room as quickly as he could, under an astonished audience.  
As for Christmas, the New Year’s Eve dinner had to be attended by everyone. Moreover, with what that specific student lived through, the professor could worry a lot and his absence was part of those aspects.  
The eagle handle let him in without giving him a riddle to solve, the animated object knowing when he had to remain silent and when there were emergency situations facing it. The complete silence washed over the adult and he was not reassured at all. His gaze met the numerous drafts and he stopped to have a closer look. Oh my, he thought, when he recognized the specific coda to quote the educational texts of law. Soon, he dropped his curiosity satisfaction to find out his charge but he did not have to go that away as he first checked in the main room and more precisely every armchair in here.  
The boy had just fallen asleep so it was easy to wake him up and the professor just had to put a hand on one of his shoulders for it. Melbourne opened his eyes and almost jumped from fright. He then identified the intruder and sighed from relief.  
‘Are you fine?’ Flitwick asked, still worried.  
The teenager recollected his thoughts while he took a better posture, taking the time to produce a ‘crack’ with his backbone and next mumbled a ‘Sorry, sir, I fell asleep.’ The professor nodded in silence.  
‘Did you spend your whole day on that report professor Dumbledore asked you to write?’ he questioned, already aghast and sure of the answer in regard of the messy drafts on the table near them.  
‘Yes, sir.’ the Eaglet approved before he yawned like he were ready to dislocate his jaw in the process.  
‘That’s not an urgent essay to hand as soon as possible, Melbourne. You do not need to worry to the point to skip meals.’ Flitwick gently reproached his charge.  
‘If I may disagree sir, that’s more important than a mere school paper. It’s about a man’s future who could end up at Azkaban if I don’t take it seriously.’ said Melbourne replied a bit too stern than he had wished to sound. He immediately looked down at the floor, feeling all sorry but his Head did not say anything about his tone because he perfectly understood the teenager’s anger. Despite their views about Snape, all the professors had been mad at the article they had read, and not only because the reporter had obviously questioned Dumbledore’s position. They had been used to the numerous attacks against their Headmaster and the main protagonist even laughed at them as if they were nothing but garbage.  
The Charms professor sighed and looked particularly tired on that night. He hesitated a couple of minutes before he finally talked: ‘I understand, Mr. Melbourne. I understand your feeling which is, if I may say so, legitimate and normal. We, professors, felt crossed too when we all read the newspaper this morning. Nevertheless, it’s not the good reason to forget to take care of yourself. Even if professor Snape won’t tell you his gratitude to help him, he would disagree to note that you push yourself too hard on that task.’ His eyes shone with authority and determination not to question back.  
William did not dare to meet his Head’s gaze because he knew he was right but he could not help to act the way he did: whenever he felt the necessity to do something, he was completely in it no matter if his body deserves rest and attention.  
‘I just want to help...’ he trailed off miserably and he suddenly was aware of his strong emotion to succeed and that was not only because of his need to save a professor’s neck but what he had had as relation with that man when he had been in first year. That frightened the Eaglet at once and the adult facing him could see that sudden feeling painted on his student’s face. The boy loudly sighed, tears at the corners of his eyes, sobs blocked halfway in his throat.  
From Flitwick’s view there was no reason to give his charge a detention on the motive he broke a rule, a really nonsensical one based on the obligation to assist to every festive meals during those holidays. The teenager meant no harm, meant not to do any rebellious gesture by boycotting those meals, even though he would have wished depending on the special day it was. Still, he only forgot simple palpable details such as eating and drinking properly, not because he was a taunting teenager but from a mere lack of consideration as if that specific area in his brain did not work correctly – and maybe it was only that. Nevertheless the Charms professor was not a specialist in those fields of medicine. Melbourne’s case from his childhood was somewhere lost in some Muggle primary school or doctor that none of the wizard professors had access here. That was one of the most embarrassing details ruling in the wizard British education system: no one had paid attention on the potentiality that some of the young had attended Muggle schools before Hogwarts and that would have been useful to possess their backgrounds to help everyone concerned. The somewhat allergy on Muggle society and the racism that defined the wizard world had been so far that those considerations had been forgotten on purpose. The Head of Ravenclaw had noted this quite soon in his teaching career here and he had reported those elements to the attention of the Headmaster for he could voice them to the Ministry but the old wizard had faced a deaf wall. Surely Melbourne’s files would have given him some hints about the way he was as an individual person, as he was quite atypical in his kind.  
‘I suggest you stop here for today and come to eat some dessert.’ the adult finally mumbled after he had cast a Tempus Charm to read the hour. ‘So that you won’t go to sleep with your stomach aching from emptiness. You need rest and strength. Don’t protest. These are necessary to offer proper work. Didn’t Snape tell you so one day or another?’ he added while the Eaglet eyed at him shyly. Nonetheless, the student remained silent, otherwise both came out of the Common Room and stepped down the stairs to the ground floor and joined the other inhabitants of the castle who were eating puddings and other stuff cooked by the House-Elves for the special occasion.  
When the professor let his charge on his own, and he had decided to take the most important distance as possible from anyone, he immediately was taken aside by both Dumbledore and Snape, Hagrid and Burbage not that far away to listen to the three of them.  
‘He was asleep when I found him in the Common Room.’ Flitwick answered at the Headmaster’s question. ‘He was working on his report.’ he added to the Potions Master. ‘And you may be surprised but the article reading gave him ideas to search some useful arguments in the education law section, so I think that it will be an interesting testimony for the judges to read.’  
‘I hope he won’t misunderstand those.’ was the only reaction from the Raven.

 

*

 

The lawyer taped his desk with his fingers while he was reading one of the testimonies that Dumbledore had handed him, both he and Severus Snape seated in front of him, waiting for his comments to come in complete silence, and maybe with some apprehension too.  
The study was well furnished, wooden-like, from the bookshelves to the ground and the chairs. The whole was arranged to assume a better harmony in the room to go from one point to the other easily. Candles richly decorated were floating here and there in strategic areas to have the whole lit properly. Law books were the main property of the lawyer, who had decided not to be distracted by anything else. The Headmaster was the one who met the other purposely, having some good reports from the seriousness and the efficiency in his work. The man had accepted to defend the Potions Master, not on the motive of believing he was clean in the disputable affair of the Dark Lord, but because it was a real challenge to him and maybe because he thought that some men would have made mistakes but not in total willing. Moreover he believed that was his client’s case.  
The report he was reading was fascinating on one point: despite the usual arguments detailing that Snape was a good professor, very detailed arguments here, some were from law.  
‘And you tell me that was written by a fifteen year-old teenager?’ he wondered aloud showing to both men before him said report.  
‘Mr. Melbourne wanted to be as accurate as he could and is very meticulous in everything he does.’ Dumbledore replied matter-of-factly. ‘He thought that was necessary to strengthen his view because he had understood that education was part of the issue.’  
‘Why not but I never met any student of that age mastering our field until the point he did.’ the lawyer admitted. ‘I even go further in saying that some of the trainees I had to stake weren’t that good in understanding and using properly what they ought to learn. What does this Melbourne want to attend as university studies?’  
‘He made us aware of his desire to dedicate his future to education, possibly as tutor for young people and why not, in any case, choosing the law specialization on it if he cannot teach.’ the Headmaster answered in a calm tone, not displaying neither pride nor self-contentment.  
The lawyer nodded in silence, understanding a bit better the profile from whom he read a piece of parchment. This Melbourne possibly would be a serious student if he already was workaholic and thinking right in regard of the law under consideration.   
‘He even proposed the same arguments as mine...’ he finally muttered for himself but both professors could hear him clearly. From now on, Dumbledore was relieved about his choice: this lawyer was not corrupted by the general opinion, only was he a professional who did his job.

 

*

 

The trial held in the Department of Mysteries in one of the numbered rooms deep down the ninth floor, at the end of a long and dark corridor barely lit. However the place was gloomy-like, an unusual crowd chattering loudly inhabited this place. Even though the affair of the Dark Lord had concerned the whole society, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had decided to limit the access to the trial to the essential protagonists. They assumed that if entire families would have come, they would ensue problems whereas their only desire was to sentence judgments as quick as the law could allow them. This done, the lowest circles of Death Eaters had been judged in a few days. Even if the lawyers lacked proves from their mischief, direct and real proves because those bloody Death Eaters wore masks and long and heavy black robes, all Death Eaters still alive and caught were jailed at Azkaban ad vitam aeternam. Very few were Kissed. In fact, the Justice here had not been prepared to a trial with much impact on society so that everyone tried his best to do it properly but it soon appeared that only revenge talked during those trials. The usual procedures were not totally respected, they often met the limit line of legality, but to society’s satisfaction the bad people as Death Eaters were sentenced and that was enough for them.  
The lawyer in charge of Severus Snape watched all of this with a puzzled and critical look, his face as neutral as possible while he was boiling inside, his beliefs in justice strongly unsettled. Finally he thought that he had to play his role as perfectly as possible if he wanted to save his client’s neck. The leniency towards that Lucius Malfoy reassured him a bit, just a bit because he always had despised the aristocrat for who he was. A last question haunted him all night before his turn the following day: would anyone let him speak to defend the Potions Master properly?  
That was easiest than he first worried thanks to Dumbledore. The Headmaster had a great influence that let him explain everything about his employee and people listened to him in complete silence, either aghast or doubtful, but they listened to him. In addition, the lawyer only had to break the Education Chairmen final doubts in regard of their legislative part, pointing at every possibility their field could allow Severus Snape to teach at Hogwarts. The main argument was that even though he would be a criminal, nothing could relate him to any criminal action apart from his Dark Mark, so that his case was quite clean. He concluded by what that Melbourne had written in his testimony; despite the absence of learning pedagogy in his youth, the Raven was the best man to teach Potions due to his diplomas but mostly because he was the only one to help the students to reach a better level in his classes, pushing said students to go further and thanks to the great place made to practice under his supervision.  
The audience went long and exhaustion washed over the lawyer who showed nothing until he was all alone in his study on that evening, waiting for the deliberation with some apprehension.


	6. The Raven and the Eaglet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not yet beta'd.

Even though the wizard community had obtained what they wanted through the imprisonment of the Death Eaters, serenity still was at bay. Suspicion remained in their minds and the real problem from that eleven-year war existed deep in them: their reject of what they considered inferior, as we did not see other creatures differently at all. House-Elves still were those servants. Werewolves still were an abnormality. Centaurs still were those weird blocks who desired to be on their own. Giants still were those brutal people far away in the mountains. Goblins still were the Nemesis to keep away from wizards in order to avoid another war. Muggles still were the ignorant part to keep away from them to avoid possible control from one side on the other. Words such as Half-breed and Mudblood still were part of the wizard vocabulary. They had learned nothing from the Dark Lord reign of terror whereas they were in a hurry to punish the Death Eaters, surely, because they knew they were not clean and needed scapegoats to wash their conscience from their dirty thoughts. From them, they had no blood on their hands so they could sleep peacefully, right.  
William did not accept this statement at all, still he had kept in mind that if he ever answered back to his bullies, one would punish him like them. In addition, he wanted Professor Burbage not to negotiate his potential detentions to have him in her classes. Third years had liked to see Muggle money but most of them had hidden their pleasure due to that mentality which still controlled them. Nevertheless, the Muggle Studies professor had decided it was a success so she asked Melbourne to come from time to time to show them or explain them some aspects that defined the Muggle British society. On that Friday evening, they would deal with Muggle public transportation. How to say – that was a huge topic to talk to but mostly one of the Eaglet’s favorite. Therefore, he felt particularly proud to have his subscription transportation card on him such as his identity card and he had found out a London public transportation map from the previous year in all his stuff in his dorm. If someone wanted to accuse him of not fitting, they only had to fetch his room and find out lots of proofs that were exposed everywhere we could glimpse.  
The teenager prepared everything on that morning before going to eat breakfast and start his own day of school. Fifth years started only at ten but the important subjects were scheduled so every Friday was quite stressful for the students. Since the trial had passed, the Daily Prophet seemed to like the idea to remind the population that the Ministry had done their job and that everything was under control. After eleven years of disaster in which they had not much power and influence, they needed to start on new basis, assuming that they led all political matters from now on and that nothing of the kind would never happen again. Therefore, Dumbledore decided to refrain to reveal his wonders and doubts, as he had no real proof, nevertheless he feared the future.  
William patted Winston’s head absently while he read the newspaper but he soon felt annoyed by the general tone displayed on every political article. While the wizards praised themselves on a complete victory about holding back the leads through the Death Eaters trial, nothing was made to change the population’s mind on the core of the problem: racism towards every creature and wizard who were not Pure-Bloods.  
‘You know what, Winston?’ the boy asked to an attentive owl even though he did not understand the human language. ‘No one dares to put a word on what disturbs the society. No one dares to be an opponent and officially declares that something’s wrong here. It’s a bit a shame like the Yalta treaties… Let confuse the population! Keep them blind!’ he concluded while raising his spoon like a weapon before he gave off loudly and came back to more pragmatic preoccupation which was to eat his porridge. He tried not to pay attention to the staff’s table, sure that a few of the professors looked carefully at him and they might have noted his sudden gesture. He did not care to look like a disturbed block who talked to an animal but he did not like to be that visible.  
‘What are the… Yalta treaties you were talking about?’ Elizabeth asked her classmate on the way to the greenhouses, the January freezing wind blowing madly until the students’ ears hurt them.  
‘What must have been peaceful arrangements between the great forces of the forties and fifties but ended up in a joke from the Russians, as soon them and the USA started the Cold War for more than twenty years.’ William answered vividly his teeth clenched due to cold and his tiredness from how politics disgusted him. Indeed, the young girl did not understand his Muggle references but she secretly wrote the key words on the corner of her parchment when they all sat down to ask her Muggle father later in a letter. Elizabeth did not want to harass William about Muggle stuff so far, he had enough to deal with his bullies, consequently she had decided right in her second year to ask her parents to enlighten her discreetly whenever her classmate made references as such the Yalta treaties. Professor Sprout quickly gave them work and they forgot those Yalta treaties for the whole day.  
‘I know you had Herbology just before my lesson but you had enough time to clean yourself up to look proper, Melbourne.’ Snape reproached dryly, his nostrils exhaling from anger. ‘Let’s sum up, shall we? You come here as if you had kissed mud and very unkempt. May I point out that your shoelaces are unmade too?’ he snorted, completely exasperated by the Eaglet’s negligence from his inner point of view; he only showed mockery outside for his audience. The young man was aware of the bunch of witnesses who would repeat everything and that would fall in the right ears that belonged to the remaining Death Eater families. He clearly made it on purpose to comfort his position towards his ex-colleagues.   
To his most surprise, the boy dared to reply with no emotion at all, still he replied, this idiotic brat: ‘I know I’m disrespecting whole article two from the school rules, Sir.’ Still polite but he dared!  
‘If you are much aware of that, why don’t you use your brain to correct yourself or you think you’re superior to the mortal rules to consider them?’ the Potions Master snapped, his robes bruising in movement with his boots that resonated threateningly towards the teenager. He then hit the boy’s head with his own example of the subject book and retired twenty points from Ravenclaw at once.  
‘Next time, it will be thirty points and a detention, Melbourne.’ the Head of Slytherins concluded while he came back to the front of the class to glare at all the dunderheads to stop their giggling. According to young professor Snape, mocking a classmate was as bad as misbehaving. As a student, he had suffered from bullying and mockery and he did not stand to witness those now he was the referent, even though the pupils concerned were not his charges and he loving to taunt all those young. His death look was enough to calm them down immediately. Ravenclaws were harsh between them, which was a misery to point out that House was not a same unit at all. Some sort of competition could destroy the solidarity that students may build, and some Ravenclaws were most concentrated on individual success than a collective one to win the House Cup at the end of the year. Therefore, if they could drown in one of their prominent threats in front of professors, they did not hesitate. On some points, the Eaglets could be worse than the Snakes.  
‘And ten points to each one who still giggles like an idiot.’ the Raven growled before the course itself could start.  
After lunch break, William came to Transfiguration with clean clothes, his shirt in his trousers like an executive and he had made his shoelaces. The Deputy-Headmistress even rose an eyebrow from surprise but she said nothing and welcomed all the students in her class. Indeed her dark colleague had expressed his fuel in the staff room; nevertheless, she still was surprised that the Eaglet corrected himself as soon as he could, he being the kind not to look after himself with that close attention expected to anyone here. How could their new colleague obtain such results with the teenager? Not that he was the kind to disobey purposely and with defiance, but he had always been forgetting every matter he seemed not to integrate. The Lion noted to herself to have a long chat with the Raven in order to clear the mining field that was Melbourne later.  
‘How do you manage not to get lost?’ a tiny third-year student asked after he had raised his hand.  
William had his answer on the tip of his tongue before he closed his mouth and looked at the map he had brought. Indeed that was easy for him. You just had to look at destination A and destination B and jumped in the right underground line in order to go from destination A to destination B. As easy as breathing. Otherwise, from those young facing him who just knew the wizard transportation, the map appeared to be a huge obstacle with its colored tentacles spreading everywhere. When you were a grown-up, either you Apparated or flew with your broomstick. Easier to them to deal with going from destination A to destination B.  
The Eaglet peeped at Burbage who just smiled when their eyes met. He never thought about the potentiality of getting lost in that public transportation.  
‘I guess that… I know it by heart and…’ he trailed off, while some sounds of admiration erupted from here or there; because it was a clear tour de force according to the young wizards in front of him.   
‘There’s not only the underground, right?’ another Hufflepuff student asked, his hand halfway in the air. ‘My uncle told me there were buses and taxis too. That’s a nightmare to him.’ he admitted in a mutter, blushing as everybody was looking at him curiously. He surely felt this as he clearly admitted aloud he had some Muggle origins to all his classmates.  
‘That’s right.’ William agreed, delighted he felt less alone by now. ‘When you associate a number line to its color, it’s easier to deal with the public transportation. In addition, when you use some lines frequently, you learn faster than you think, you know. Did you ever take the tube, then?’ he finally asked to the Hufflepuff who quickly nodded in response and even articulated a silent ‘that was a mess.’  
Questions popped up all around the class, anyone wondering about how it was strange from a wizard point of view because either the Floo or Apparation made things faster and easier. Some also asked William random directions to test his self-proclaimed knowledge about that mystified map. The teenager tried to come back on a more normal trail than those questions when he showed them his subscription card. It came from hand to hand while he explained them the different information written on that red card, as subscription changed whatever your age and to which extend you subscribed for.  
‘That was a huge success!’ professor Burbage exclaimed at the end of the class when both of them remained to clean a bit before leaving. ‘I sincerely thank you to come to give the Muggle Studies a more realistic tone.’ she beamed while the Eaglet shyly looked down at his shoes, always ill at ease when someone complimented him openly.  
‘I hope there won’t be any problem about Muggle stuff later with those aware people.’ he mumbled after seconds of consideration.  
‘Oh, you’ve heard about the Misuse at the Ministry.’ the woman gazed at him, and then shrugged. ‘Yes, I hope too...’ she trailed off. ‘But I don’t know if I make a difference, you know… ‘Cause they may be adorable in class but at home, it’s different. They hear some silly things about the Muggles and only have learned the other side of the coin until then. I had to spend my first months to dismantle lots of prejudice.’ she concluded, her eyes lost somewhere away, her face showing up both her worry and her sadness to know that her community was that racist.  
‘I think you make it because they wouldn’t be that adorable when I show them Muggle money and other stuff.’ William tried to reassure her and himself in the process, with an unconvinced smile anyway. He perfectly was aware that those objects might not have much impact on young people’s spirits if they constantly were washed with some propaganda about the superiority and purity of the wizard community over all the others.  
‘We’ll see it in the future.’ Burbage concluded.  
*

Still haunted by the trial and the thoughts he had during Christmas holidays, William sat in the library not to do his homework but to draw a somewhat sketch of his thinking, trying to make it clearer by writing it on paper. Some fifth and seventh years were working too, the exams near as the first semester had ended; announcing them their fate was close. Mrs Pince patrolled from time to time with her stern look, exhaling like a dragon whenever she saw something reprehensible before she demanded the mischief to go out at once. Apart from her, all was quite still and silent. Students often chatted between them in murmurs, working in groups, the usual sounds of pages turned and feathers writing words on parchments nursing this entire studying atmosphere.  
First, the teenager drew a scheme with arrows and bubbles containing the key words and dates. He had the misfortune to know when Snape obtained his Mark. That was in 1977. The boy tried his best not to go down to that memory but he could not help and thought about that discovery as if it were the previous day.  
Indeed William did not really understand why that grown-up and dark Slytherin student had tolerated him for a while. Still, both of them had become somewhat a study team who met from time to time. Moreover, young William finally had considered Severus Snape as a friend, as the latter never had a rude word towards him and never rejected him. That had been a change for the first year. Unfortunately, he soon had to discover this acquaintance had been a problem for both Severus and his roommates – even his own relations that certainly were like him. However, the seventh year did not know how to say the boy to take his distances not violently, as he had done with his former beloved friend Lily. He had reported the issue to the point he finally had been irritated about William asking him to meet and study as usual on a night of January 1978. The corridor leading to the library was silent for once and only their footsteps broke it. William could feel his elder’s irritation but he had not understood the reason, still Severus literally was marching before him, trying to lose him maybe. The Eaglet tried to stop his friend by harassing him with questions, stupid ones actually such as ‘don’t you want to study with me anymore? Don’t you like those study periods anymore?’ That had killed Severus’ low patience who suddenly turned towards the boy to burst a strong and angry ‘we are – not – friends! We never did and keep that silly idea out of your head!’ These words deeply had hurt William who had stopped walking and he watched the seventh year completely shocked. Severus concluded his work by coming closer to the first year in order to prove him his words and show him his Dark Mark. That had been enough for William to understand, to be afraid, to cry for hours and to run away the opposite way.  
The young had stopped breathing, a knot halfway in his throat and had most difficulties to come back to the tracks of reality. Then, Snape had been a Death Eater since 1977. He did not know what he did during the four following years; apart from his Master’s Degree, he obtained mid-1981. He wrote it too. He also wrote the Dark Lord’s reign, from 1970 to his mysterious defeat on October 31 1981. While he put down Snape new status as Professor from September 1981, he frowned. What could have happened before the Dark Lord seemingly died? From here, the only potential reason was that Snape felt the necessity to redeem himself towards Dumbledore because no one else could give him a chance if he was a professor now. William wrote this hypothesis as he drew a parallel line between the different dates to scheme causes and consequences between them. Remained two questions: the first was the continuity of the Raven’s activities as Death Eater from September to October. It might have been the case, though, but that would mean the Headmaster tolerated those while he had hired him and it was clearly a huge risk as he then had responsibilities over students. The second question was about the reason that motivated both protagonists to do what they did. Unless the Eaglet could read minds or had the indecent luck to have those answers from both adults, he could not go further in his thinking. He exhaled an exasperated sound of defeat. Oh, yeah, and his hypothesis about the link with baby Harry Potter. Hum, how to say that? William remembered Snape mentioned him years before he had known Lily Evans but they were not friends anymore when both Eaglet and Snake started to meet frequently at the library. Furthermore, the teenager had read that Lily Evans had married to James Potter, thanks to modern historical books mentioning it to give the context of their murder.  
Was the whole stuff linked to this, to that murder? It might be, true. William watched his draft and forgot all proofs, facts and total reason to let his imagination free to think. He was quite good at it, as he always was daydreaming. He closed his eyes and thought about what Snape had told him about Lily. She was friend of mine. We have known each other since we were ten. By the way he had said it, young William had asked him an embarrassing question that had closed the topic and given him the hint of Snape death glare: Do you still like her, then? The strong reaction he had gained next had confirmed what he had thought. His late parents had told him so once: when people cut the conversation short with violence, which was equivalent of an admission. And if Snape had known something about James and Lily Potter’s fate? He suddenly thought, his eyes enlarging from shock. That would have explained his desire of redemption, to ask Dumbledore mercy and some help because he still had felt close to his former friend. That would be plausible, right. William slightly shook from head to toe, this terrible hypothesis ringing in his mind. That was crazy, completely crazy considering to whom his professor worked at the time. That would mean that he had been ready to betray the Dark Lord. The Death Eater had taken risks threatening his life then, for that former friendship. Terrible, terrible fate. Not standing at all what he had discovered, the Eaglet quickly put his drafts in his bag and ran to join his dorm, still shaken and on the verge of crying.  
*

‘I really don’t stand his gaze.’ the Potions Master mumbled under his breath while he was pouring black tea in his cup before him on breakfast time the following day. ‘I… Hate… This.’ he added his teeth clenched, but controlled himself to the point that he seemed embodying the monks who had decided to remain silent to the end of their lives.  
‘What are you saying?’ Dumbledore asked him, breaking that some sort of intimacy the professor wanted to keep. Unfortunately, the old wizard was not deaf and had noted his employee’s agitation because he knew him very well to see this despite his seemingly neutrality.  
Snape sighed and drank a sip from his drink, wondering whether he had to answer the Headmaster. He clearly did not want to, but it was Dumbledore and the man would find his answer anyway soon.  
‘Melbourne clearly irritates me.’ he finally gave up with a dryly tone, slightly nodding towards the student. Dumbledore then peeped at the Eaglet – oh, that kind of gaze was close to announce a bad omen, as those Flitwick warned every Defense Against the Dark Arts professors not to be fooled.  
‘He may have understood and now… Now, he’s looking at me with some pity!’ the Head of Slytherins spat, his voice shaken with restrained anger.  
‘I don’t think that’s pity.’ the Headmaster replied. ‘He just displays his empathy, doesn’t he?’  
‘Empathy is like pity, don’t play with words.’ the young growled.  
Silence came down washing them. Snape had feared the potentiality that Melbourne would understand anything about him, as he knew the boy was the stubborn profile. Nevertheless, the Potions Master would have hoped the student to give up his personal investigation, as it did not concern him at all. Surely, the demand from the Headmaster had motivated the dunderhead to put his nose where he should not. Sorry, but I hate people who look after me like that, he thought, glancing at the Eaglet with his dark glare.  
*

‘Why are you using those sunflower seeds, Melbourne?’ the Potions Master asked dryly during Potions class a few couple of minutes later, up just behind the boy to frighten him to his wits.  
Alas for the Snake, the dunderhead did not shiver at all. He even had the audacity to peep at him back and blankly answer that was certainly the best way to proceed in order to obtain a more powerful solution. Oh, come on, the incident never calmed him down to try his experiments! Even though he was right, Snape would not admit it aloud and instead wanted to hit his head violently with a heavy book. He was so angry at him that he could not restrain himself to feel these burning tentacles eating his stomach. He then looked at Virginia who worked with Melbourne and by the way her shoulders seemed to protect her head, she was not sure at all of her mate’s adventurous gesture. She might feel afraid of receiving the professor’s disapproval. She, at least, acted properly, the young man thought sternly.  
‘Better you hand me a proper phial at the end of class and don’t mess up your classmate’s grades with your tendency to experiment whenever you can.’ the Potions Master finally said in a murmur before he looked at what Mickael Pitt and Elizabeth were doing.  
When William and Virginia gave their professor their phial, the boy easily could read some anger in the Head of Slytherins’ gaze towards him. Still, the Eaglet showed no emotion at all when he left the classroom. Yet, he thought no less. He knew, he understood why his elder was angry and he sincerely wondered if he had gone too far with the hiring that did not concern him. True, who was he to investigate the way he did to obtain answers he ought not to possess? Did he ever feel any satisfaction to it? Not at all. Nevertheless, he had felt the emergency to understand and he could not let the desire to know growing in him. That were the limits of his curiosity. It was an encouraging sign of his interest about the world on safer matters but not on others, and Snape being a professor while he was a Death Eater was purposely out of the safe area.  
Deep in thoughts, William could not anticipate what quickly happened next as he stepped in the Great Hall. Four students popped out from behind statutes and immediately attacked him. The teenager had no time to understand what occurred as he soon hit the floor straight away, his legs and arms blocked due to the Leg-Locker Curse. He even had the sensation not to breathe properly because he surely had been hit by at least two similar hexes. From his point of view, he could not see a fifth presence – where was Virginia? Where was she, he wondered half-angry at her and half-anxious not receiving any help.  
‘Hey! What are you doing?’ snapped a female stern voice, soon her steps following her voice.  
Emerald green robes, black boots with low-heels. McGonagall, William guessed on purpose, and felt delighted. ‘What is all of this about? You perfectly know the school rules that state it is forbidden to use spells outside of the classes! Detention, the four of you! No! No protestation McGregor! You deserve a punishment for behaving the way you do! You know that we all are looking at you closely! Do we have to report this to your parents, again? Weren’t the three other times enough to calm you down? Next time, it’s a disciplinary commission awaiting you and you’d be expelled a few days! Now, get out of my way!’ She shouted before she relieved the bullied from his invisible ropes.  
Mumbles and footsteps went away and McGonagall’s boots came nearer. William only succeeded in sitting down and no more, in order to avoid new attacks and being the most invisible as possible.  
The Deputy-Headmistress looked down at him, her face displaying her most terrible strictness.  
‘Are you fine?’ she asked.  
The Eaglet did not answer but got up on his feet and took his bag that had been thrown off to the ground. He wondered what hurt him the most between the attack and the seemingly runaway of his classmate.  
However, he might have not noticed she had taken a large advance while he was thinking hard, he suddenly realized.  
‘’Got all my limbs at the proper place, so I guess I’m fine.’ he answered slowly with a shrug.  
The Transfiguration professor gave up on that record: Melbourne finally had shown a habit to his treatments, which was terrible to make such a statement, still she had no strength to fight it right now.  
‘Please, follow me in my office. I need your testimony to complete their files in order to prove their behavior and to the disciplinary records.’ she said while she turned her heels to step up in the good direction.  
The teenager opened his mouth from total astonishment and remained where he was. McGonagall soon sensed it and turned to him, silently questioning him.  
‘I… I’m not a...’ he trailed off, unable to clear his thoughts to say them properly.  
‘It’s the procedure Mr. Melbourne. You won’t disobey the rules just because you don’t want to put them into troubles.’ she stated matter-of-factly.  
The boy did not want to do such a report but he managed to control himself and to follow her anyway. This simple obedience satisfied her; still she made no comment and continued her way up to her study.  
The place was quite wide but not as warm as Flitwick’s place who had tried to give his own room that human inclination despite cold colors. Everything was at the image of the woman: useful, pragmatic, and severe but not to the point it could have been gloomy like Snape’s study. Very few furniture reminded her origins from the region where the school stood. Some Scottish motives were present on cushions or even on the walls through tapestries that hung on them. Two full bookshelves ended to dress the remaining walls under the boy’s scrutiny. Everything else was composing what a study should possess. Outside, the sky started to darken as days had shortened for a while and the country barely appreciating the sun even though they had passed the Winter Moon.  
While the Lion was looking for documents to the case under consideration, tea poured itself in two cups while the tray on which they were was quickly ready with some seemingly delicious scones. They smelled a good perfume to William’s high senses and indicated him they just had been baked. His contemplation ended soon as the Deputy-headmistress turned towards him, sat down and watched him from behind her rectangular glasses. This gave the Eaglet a shiver that ran on all his backbone, as she sometimes was more impressive than the Potions Master.  
Not at all sensible to her student feelings, she started to write down the date and some other elements that she was able to give, as she was a close direct witness of what had occurred. She said those aloud while writing, silently to ask him to correct her if necessary. After all of this completed, she straightforwardly demanded him to detail the attack.  
That was more complex than just enumerating some History facts or Transfiguration processes, the teenager soon realized as he felt that unbearable knot in his throat. Emotions had replaced his thoughts, even covered his reasoning, but he was aware of better not telling her what kept his attention at bay when he had gone out Snape’s classroom. He did not want to share his thoughts, only he would both to Dumbledore and the Head of Slytherins if that would happen. Moreover, the attack still hurt him despite the fact he gave that image of the boy who did not care anymore on the way things occurred to him. However, he soon told her what she wanted to hear with a quivering voice, as she still was watching him with that eagle gaze of her. When he finished, she put her feather aside and read his words aloud to valid them before she rolled up the parchment.  
‘Now, before you leave: breathe and relax. Some tea is served so enjoy it. Only then you may go.’ McGonagall finally said.  
He knew from her tone that was not an invitation and he obeyed in silence, not sure he would be able to say another word until the following day to be optimistic, as he felt particularly drained and only wished to stay in bed for the remaining of his life.  
*

What occurred to William spread like Floo Powder in the castle. The teenager was anxious of the idea to be attacked again and to meet hundreds of other students packed in the corridors and elsewhere, where they all were close to each other – too close. This constant stiflingly had its origins not only because of the report he had made with professor McGonagall, still it had a huge impact, but also the fact that he could not stand being the perfect scapegoat anymore.  
During the afternoon break on Monday, fifth years came from the greenhouses to join the castle warmth. The usual agitation shook the Eaglet who stopped halfway and froze at once, his gaze lost somewhere, as if he had ceased to think. Elizabeth and Virginia stopped too and came back to him quite worried but he had enough strength to ask them not to wait for him. They protested and finally gave in, as he did nothing more to encourage them to stay with him. William clearly and silently wanted to be on his own, so both girls accepted it and went away.  
Otherwise, the Eaglet came back to reality, saw that no one was here in the park and took his courage to go into the castle, while the clock rang the end of the break, chatters spreading everywhere, noises from all the students reverberating in the corridors. Oh, if only he could avoid all of this! He then hit someone in the process, almost fell down but strong arms contained him.


	7. Wonders and Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not yet beta'd. I'm sorry for the upcoming mistakes.

The arms that kept William to hit the floor like a fruit still held their grip on him. The teenager did not dare to look up to know the face of the person who closely saved him from humiliation, but soon a sweet voice helped to identify the owner of those arms.  
‘Beware where you walk, Melbourne.’ Snape said and he freed the student who could stand on his feet on his own. The boy finally peeped at him and this time, no anger was in his black eyes when he was watching him carefully. It might be concern somehow… The Potions Master was watching his student with attention, his face neutral. The young man bit his inner cheek not to speak because he surely was facing an exhausted Melbourne who appeared to be paler than usual as if he was sick. He had no inclination to taunt the Eaglet on his condition and as he had not that gaze signifying ‘I-know-things-I-don’t-have-to’ like the previous days, so there was no reason for the Head of Slytherins to defend himself bitterly. Moreover, even though the boy had that inclination to hit him too often to be noted, he remained calm. He did not know why he kept a total control over his emotions, and even his tendency to spit mocking remarks as he usually did, still the Potions Master stayed somewhat relax.  
‘Don’t you have class now?’ the adult asked then, as Melbourne did not move at all. A light shone in the eyes of his student who turned his heels and ran away to the stairs. ‘DON’T RUN!’ was the only thing Snape could say, half exasperated half tired of always repeating himself with this brat. He knew one thing for sure: tattooing on the dunderhead’s arm such things would not help him to remember the rules he seemingly forgot immediately after one had refreshed his mind.

 

*

 

‘No – no – no – NO.’ Snape mumbled higher and higher to every ‘no’ he said. He gave off loudly and gazed at Dumbledore darkly. ‘That’s the worst idea – ever.’  
‘This is what you say every time I’m submitting you an idea or a plan.’ Dumbledore teased him gently as a reply, not at all disturbed by his employee’s attitude. Mostly he was amused.  
The Potions Master stretched his legs, seated on one of the Chintz armchairs the Headmaster liked the most to cast them every so often.  
‘First, he is underage.’ the Raven counted on his fingers. ‘Second, he is immature to that kind of issue. Third, he is the type to be overwhelmed by his emotions so that he can’t think properly. Fourth, I absolutely don’t see him engaged in anything. Fifth, he can’t deal with teenagers problems to endure adults ones. Didn’t you remember what I already told you about him? Do I have to continue or do you see what I’m demonstrating you?’ he spat, quite bewildered.  
‘I think you underestimate William, that is.’ the old wizard answered him calmly.  
Both watched each other in silence for a couple of seconds, the latter’s eyes were sparkling.  
Aware of his blown up arguments, the Raven gave up on this side but he said dryly. ‘It’s still too early to ask him to be part of the resistance as we don’t know yet if he is alive.’  
This time, the old wizard gave no reply; his absence of reaction gave credit to Snape’s last words.  
‘And if I daresay, he still is unready for that kind of task and we still don’t know how he would be that useful for your plans.’ the Head of Slytherins added in a defiance posture, his chin up and his eyes gazing straight at his co-speaker.  
‘You may be right but as far we all know where he wants to be, I think he would be a strong point. You are aware of the Department ruling the Education being distant and likes to play with opacity whenever they can. If we have a paw in there, that would be mostly useful to all of us.’ Dumbledore smiled back to a more and more irritated Potions Master who just realized how stubborn the Headmaster could be.  
‘I would reconsider your wonderful plan only when the boy had passed his NEWTs.’ growled Snape, half-defeated. That was to say, two years after he would pass his OWLs.   
Dumbledore only nodded and poured more tea in his cup in response.

 

*

 

Before NEWTs were OWLs. Even though they had not the same impact in the students’ lives, they still had a strong one. January and February went by quickly, almost unnoticed and the cold, damp, snowy March was at their threshold, great announcement of their mock exams in order to prepare them on the parts that could not be taught. That was to say, managing their time, dealing with their stress, preparing their stuff in order to be ready – not to mention to face a heavy timetable that was only composed on a series of exams. To proceed properly, the professors had chosen the last week of March and had suspended their courses, so that no other student could disturb the fifth and seventh years, still they had to attend training sessions whenever a professor was free from his or her duties to survey them. This made, they could come up with all the students had seen since the beginning of the year to prepare them to their own series of exams. Briefly, everyone in the castle was training for exams, either they guaranteed the access to the following year or to specialize their schedule or even to put an end to their secondary studies.  
‘Switch and flick, switch and flick, sw…’  
‘And that is the best piece of advice Flitwick taught us about the Levitating Curse.’ snarled a seventh year in the Ravenclaw Common Room. The first year who was repeating the cast went red before she was at the verge of crying from her nerves. Surely, she was pressuring herself strongly.  
‘Even though the American switch and flick before asking questions, the gestures are important not to commit an accident. You surely had forgotten to hear the safety pieces of advice, haven’t you?’ William spat back after he got up on his feet, his fists clenched, a sudden spring of anger washing him over while he deadly looked at the seventh year. He simply hated people who criticized others so easily on the record said criticized people did their best to train themselves. In addition, the Eaglet felt emotionally involved, as he had been mocked for his tendency to study while he was attending Primary School. Elizabeth and Virginia had tried to calm him down in the spur of the moment, not at all prepared to see him react this way, both their worried faces turned to their classmate.  
‘Says the guy who almost killed his classmates during Potion class.’ the seventh year giggled. ‘Who are you then to teach me any lesson about safety and all? You’re such a pity, guy. So shut it and come back to your right place where you ought to belong.’  
‘William, no, no, no!’ Elizabeth whispered, alarmed, while William took his wand in his hand. She stood up and blocked his armed arm. ‘He’s just trying to anger you and you’re giving him reasons to continue….’  
‘Better listen to your girlfriend.’ the provocative teenager pursued his taunting approach. The girl immediately blushed hard to the wrong statement about their relationship, which allowed the seventh year to giggle more as she discredited everything she would argue.  
Apart from the four of them, and the first year to whom the conflict had started, everyone pretended not to notice or they watched the whole sketch played under their eyes as if that was the best distraction ever they had to watch.  
‘I don’t know why you are acting like a perfect idiot right now, but it’s unfair and very low coming from a seven year Ravenclaw.’ William growled, his fist still clenched on his wand , his magic starting to thunder around his both hands. The guy got up to his feet and came close to him all threatening and spat at him: ‘Step aside and play with mud, you filt...’ He had no time to end his sentence that he was knocked off by a strong Expelliarmus. As the argue became out of control, some of the mute students watching them finally reacted and a couple of them calmed down each of the duelists separately. They tried to cover the boys insults to each other. At the end, the Prefect yelled at them and came out of the Common Room to fetch Flitwick at once, joining his threat with his actions. A doomed silence washed over the Eaglets place. No one dared to move an inch while the teenagers still kept both William and the seventh year apart to spare a useless battle, their memory from the young hitting a Slytherin fresh in their minds.   
That event allowed everyone to think that professors came from one point to another quicker than it could be in that maze that was the castle. Their Head was out of his nerves at the threshold and deadly watched all of them before he stated that the two idiots had detention for a whole week.

 

*

 

Flitwick’s decision reached all his colleagues’ ears and that was a total astonishment as the man was mostly known for his tendency to talk first before punishing his charges, as he had no need to go to that extreme with them. Nevertheless, to extreme actions came extreme decisions, yet a whole week of detention was not an unfair and hard one. Still, the other professors felt a bit aghast about the Head of Ravenclaw sudden anger but they soon understood why he went out of his nerves and they wondered if that would announce a more complicated end of school year. Melbourne had not tried to justify himself, he just came to the point of saying the facts, and the other students’ testimonies went on the same way. The seventh year, for his part, had made everything he did to minimize his words and actions because he wanted a clean file for his university studies but the official version said by dozens of teenagers destroyed his miserable attempt. Moreover, the boy had been part of the band of McGregor who had attacked William a couple of days before, so Flitwick had no remorse to give him this week of detentions, such as a disciplinary record in any case they would have to come to the extreme measure which was an exclusion from Hogwarts. 

 

*

 

To be honest, the professor who was the most surprised by Flitwick’s disciplinary measures was Snape. The young man bitterly had in mind his own experience as student when subjectivity ruled in every way one’s dealt with either Slytherins or students from the three other Houses. How could that change so drastically in a few years, he wondered a bit aghast and not confident about how Hogwarts educational policies had been evolving lately. According to him, that would only be an ephemeral awareness. Still, the Raven soon had his answer when he and his colleagues had a chat in the staffroom and he could not but feel ill at ease even though Flitwick and the others admitted they had understood they had been quite unfair while dealing with students and they had decided to establish a better balance between the Houses. The Potions Master was pleased to know that, to say the least; still he felt this bitterness from his teen period because he thought that was unfair he had not benefited from this during his schooling. Nonetheless he had to think about the pupils here and not himself. What had been done was done and he could not change it at all, so he had to consider these new elements and adapt them to his own disciplinary procedures to be part of the collective effort. He had to acknowledge his colleagues’ progress on what had been a debate for years. Snape then wondered about Dumbledore’s opinion because the old wizard implicitly was in favor of Gryffindors despite the circumstances of them being the mischiefs in the issue. In addition, he could only but wonder about the Headmaster’s position ibn all this matter as he never showed any inclination to change his mind and his actions in regard of that equality which had missed for so long.   
‘I don’t understand how you came to fight with another dunderhead’, Snape whispered during the private potion lesson after William had ended his one-week detention.   
The teenager rose his head up and met his professor’s black eyes in surprise. He clearly did not anticipate this kind of wondering but in regard of the young man’s temperament that was normal. He liked to question everything that was either embarrassing or irritative to his co-speaker. Nevertheless, the Eaglet felt none of these feelings, not yet, he just was surprised as if he had shut all his emotions somewhere in his head.  
’Which part don’t you understand’, he finally asked back in a careful tone, knowing he was on dangerous waters by now. Both looked at each other in that silence announcing a rough battle to come, and the Raven broke it with a snort and a condescendent gaze. ‘Still the same wonder as always concerning your idiocy which can’t help you to obey clear rules.’ he snarled.   
‘He was mocking a…’ started the boy before he was cut short by his professor who rose a hand to intimate him to stop and added that he knew the whole thing, so he did not need to hear them once more.   
‘You lately showed more Gryffindor traits than Ravenclaws and that is totally inadequate from you to act like a proper stubborn brat who thinks bravery could solve everything and cannot be punished!’ Now, William displayed some astonishment and even irritation, from being assimilated to the kind of people who could not think before acting - wait, that was he did though, he suddenly realized above his resentment, and his cheeks went reddish from shame while he lowered his head.   
‘By Mordred… Did you just understand your behavior?’ Snape sighed, his fingers holding his nose bridge in the most exasperated level of his. ‘I knew you were slow but not to that point…’   
Shame and upset crossed in William’s mind but he remained silent, quite bewildered by his feelings and not able to distance himself from them. Then, silence became total as the Raven suddenly came to the point that he may be the worst man to say such silly words as he had acted exactly the same when he was a student himself. Oh my… He sighed again and hold his nose bridge, not from exasperation towards the boy but to himself. Past was too close for his personal comfort.  
‘What is the first piece of advice I gave you?’ he succeeded to ask in a mumble, his eyes closed in that process of reminiscence he despised the most. The Eaglet moved, all ill at ease, on his stool before answering in his breath ‘to be invisible, insignifiant to the others’. He immediately drew a parallel between this piece of advice and the current situation and felt even more ashamed. He was able to deal with his problems the way his professor recommended him, even though that meant to be treated like a coward, even though he disliked this sole idea. Otherwise, he wouldn’t dare to share his thoughts to said professor because that would end up in an useless debate between them.   
‘The Dark Lord may have fallen but people’s behaviors didn’t change during that period of time, so keep in mind that things are exactly the same for you and most of the other people here.’ Snape added. ‘You surely know that not every …. ‘bad guy’ is in Slytherin or proclaimed Death Eater… as life is more complex than white on one side and black on the other side.You have to pay attention even in the relative security of your own dorm. That’s how things are in Slytherin, so it’s logically the same elsewhere - apart from the constant pressure from some who want to draft you.’   
‘I’m sorry to act like a proper idiot’, William murmured after hesitating a while, his eyes concentrated on the list of ingredients before him. ‘Better be sorry for yourself,’ Snape replied smoothly despite his own eyes were like hard coil stones. 

 

*

 

The following day, which was a Sunday, Snape had been invited in Dumbledore’s study. The young man came in before lunch and while tea was pouring in two separate cups by itself, Fawkes was half asleep on his perch and his master was reading the different weekly reports from the Hospital Wing and the Heads of Houses. As far as the Raven sat down on one of those Chintz armchairs, the Headmaster offered him some of his favorite sweets the young declined with a head movement - better for him to eat healthier food and lunch was close, so he was not in the mood to come in the dinner room all filled with threatening poisonous sweets which gave you diabetes at the end. Then, he took the closer cup and waited his employer to tell him the motive of this meeting because he had said nothing about it when he invited him.   
‘I was reading your report a few minutes earlier but I didn’t find any word on your private lessons with William.’ Dumbledore commented in a distractive tone, still reading the parchment before him. ‘Is everything fine?’   
Oh, that was all about Melbourne - again, the Potions Master thought, his eyes up in a defeated and exasperated move, before he was aware of his bitterness. The brat was for nothing somehow, and in regard of the duties of his, that was normal the Headmaster wanted to recollect everything that was under his charge. The young man had only to consider that he didn’t fulfill all of his responsibilities whereas he had to. Well, had he? According to him, he had the possibility not to… And for some reasons that came over the mere professor’s administrative duties, such as moral ones, you know.  
‘What do you want to know so far?’ he finally replied with a question. ‘To be clear, nothing special had to be reported.’ he cleared his purpose while Dumbledore rose his head to look at him carefully, with those shiny interested eyes.   
‘Oh, not only about how he handles with knowledge, but also if he feels well and shows some motivating behavior which would help you to develop your lessons and encourage him to go further than you initially planified.’ Dumbledore answered while he stroked his beard smoothly.   
Psychologizing pupils was far from Snape’s abilities and one of the professors’ side duties he despised. He took time before telling what he had to, sighed in the process to show his co-speaker that was not from complete cooperation and that was annoying for him.   
‘Indeed I adapted my lessons in regard of his abilities but I never smooth them to comfort him on a psychological level. I never did that before and I won’t change that only for him! Life may be unfair and cruel, nonetheless that’s not an excuse to give the boy some privileges that would not prepare him to face what the world usually works. And before you would try to change my mind on it, I recall you that he particularly manages very well my strictness.’ He ended up, his fierce gaze on the Headmaster and his chin up to defy him to contradict him. Even though that meant this idiot of Melbourne knew him so well and liked him to a certain extent not to overreact when he was displaying said strictness. Oh my… The young man immediately rose up a barrier thanks to Occlumency in order not to display any specific emotion that would betray him. He had promised himself not to let emotions cover his reasoning as far as Melbourne was concerned. Their time spent in the library to study on their own but feeling the other’s presence as well had been a huge mistake. Both of them had drafted the same conclusion, thankfully, but both of them knew that was hard to handle it as they see each other on a regular basis.   
Nevertheless, Dumbledore showed no sign of being crossed by his employee’s tone, but he simply smiled! The kind of smile he displayed when he knew he could only take a path backwards in acceptance, like he was omnipotent; still he was stubborn in his idea. ‘I am aware of it and I didn’t expect less from you but… Let me reformulate things, won’t you? I think right you don’t spend your time being harsh with him as in class - oh, I guess that’s because you can’t offer a proper ear to your students as they are numerous, true. Moreover, it is important that students are attentive and pay attention due to the requirements potions demand. But, here, William is all alone with you, and knowing your tendency to take time to explain him to behave correctly, you certainly chat with him on other matters than exclusively potions.’ He finished his thought by playing with raising his eyebrows, that gesture of his irritated Snape at most - By Mordred! That was not a game! They were talking about a teenager who was constantly bullied since he had attended school here! The Raven put back his cup on the desk and recollected his thoughts the most efficiently possible thanks to Occlumency before he replied: ‘I agree I take some time to talk with him, but I only fulfill my duties, as every professor here pays particular attention to the boy with what he endures every single day here. That’s how I obtained some of his bad treatments lately because - yeah.’ he signed and closed his eyes before continuing, ‘he must feel confident and safe in that place of mine to reveal what he usually keeps for himself.’ He gave in at last, bitter defeat crashing him down in his armchair. Well done, Albus, you won. You have what you wanted, he thought. The Headmaster’s smile hurt him more than he had expected though, this irritative smile that showed Dumbledore already was aware of everything the Raven told him so far, but he had desired his employee would say them, as it was the best proof to validate them and to recognize them.   
‘So, if I ask you to hand me a weekly report on your private lessons, even though there are some of those conversations, would you obey and write them?’ Dumbledore questioned then, all seriousness back on both his face and in his tone.   
‘I am NOT a psycho-wizard, Headmaster.’ growled Snape, detaching himself from his employer by using his title rather than his surname this time. ‘I won’t write a single detailed report on what this br-student would tell me like those professionals do with their patients. If he had developed a climate of security with me, I won’t betray him to satisfy you!’  
‘If I may say so, you are reasoning like a proper psycho-wizard here,’ Dumbledore pointed out to the Head of Slytherins. ‘And I understand, as well I find it legitimate. That’s not exactly what I’m asking you, but only giving general aspects of what you would have talked together in any case either Poppy or Flitwick would have to engage a specific measure to handle with possible problems. To conclude, if there is any issue here, we would ask him to develop.’  
‘Whatever you are showing up this demand, that’s betrayal. He would never be confident at all, when he would understand that the essential information comes from me, and you are aware that he understands very quickly those kind of matters.’ Snape snapped back, bewildered, his arms crossed on his chest, totally closed to debate. ‘You now have all the elements which explain the lack of reports about those lessons on your desk every week.’ He finally said before breaking eye-contact and looked away, some soreness washing over him at once.   
Dealing with Melbourne’s case was hard to handle on too much aspects at the same time. The boy always had been all alone, mostly because of his temperament but also because of what he had endured since 1977. He never opened his heart to anyone, keeping all feelings and thought to himself as an old habit and he would change for any reason, as stubborn as he was and dealing with this procedure of his for a very long time. The fact that he sometimes delivered some of his inner world to the Potions Master was unusual for some people here, but if anyone who had witnessed their kind of friendship, which was very short though, they would have not considered this as weird. Anyway, Dumbledore remembered it perfectly and he was playing with it as far as possible, for the boy’s sake in appearance. True that was all legitimate and altruistic. Otherwise, Snape had that strange feeling slowly growing in him, like the one he had when the Headmaster manipulated him to protect young Harry Potter when he would attend school here. The only thing he could do to anticipate was to prepare himself psychologically to deal with Dumbledore’s new silly idea. However, this time he directly asked the Headmaster to come straight to the point and that destabilized the man a bit to the Raven’s most satisfaction. Remember he was a Slytherin, one of the best elements, so he would not be taken aback all the time.   
‘William is on his own, Severus, and that’s very hard for him to deal and to fit with others. That occurs everywhere. You are aware that he admitted to Filius last year he didn’t fit at all in the orphanage where he lives during summer.’  
‘He makes nothing to fit in, if you allow me to state that point.’ Snape snarled. ‘I immediately saw that he is not that close to those Elizabeth and Virginia - even though the incident to which he is the author had deepened the gap between him and the rest of the Ravenclaws.’ he admitted in his breath. ‘What do you want to end that isolation? Even though you are a great wizard, surely the greatest from this century; and me the best Potions Master of all times but we are merely humans.’ he continued. ‘If Melbourne can’t deal with other people, it’s his problem, not ours. You perfectly have in mind he had always struggled with socializing. You even wrote one of your longest visiting reports on him! You admitted that, you even proclaimed that every single year to inform the new Defenses Professor! Oh, and by the way, I really dislike this when you remind to everyone Melbourne’s flaws. Did you ever try to be in his shoes? If he heard you saying that, he would hang up at once from shame and disbelieving. His self-confidence is as low as the probability of the Dark Lord not coming back one day.’  
Snape had got up in the process and all his body displayed his anger, his fists clenched, his eyes as deathly as a huge storm, his voice as cutting as a razor blade. ‘If he had succeeded to feel safe somewhere, and I’m not that chill that happens in one of my classrooms but I have to accept it, just let him all alone! Let him breathe, for Merlin’s Sake! All professors have a close look over him, so nothing wrong will happen to him, like it had been with a student merely a few years before.’ he ended up in a growl. ‘Don’t try to redeem yourself over this boy because you were ignoring the one who is in front of you now.’  
Pain now was on Dumbledore’s face. The Headmaster had felt so miserable about how him and the other professors treated young Snape, in the most sincere way. That was a mistake the old man assumed entirely but he still was ashamed of it and he barely could stand his employee’s accusative defense.   
‘Will I be forgiven one day? Will this naive wish from an old man be possible?’ Dumbledore then murmured. ‘I was aware of what you endured, I was witnessing it. You were visible to me, you know, despite the…’  
‘Why didn’t you do anything, then?’ Snape cut him with anger. ‘Why?’  
‘Because we could not approach you, that’s why. You were so distant that no one could make anything to talk with you and help you to the point you needed it! And William is the same, so I try my best not to make the same mistakes.’  
The tone he had used to say those words displayed all his sincerity and the Raven could only sigh and his anger lowered to a more manageable level. He also lowered his gaze that he lost somewhere on the floor. He could snarl at the man’s face his own flaws for centuries but he had to come over his own bitterness, as Dumbledore had learned something from the past… Oh, that was not that easy to forgive all these adults in retrospective as his life had been blown up in the process. Well, he contributed to it too, so why spitting his wrath to the Headmaster? They all were responsible… The young man hardly but successfully managed to think about present day and present boy and present issues thanks to Occlumency and his face found out its neutral features.   
‘Giving Melbourne those potion lessons was an idea to help him somehow but you are aware that it is not enough for a larger impact and to help him on a longest prospect.’ the Raven said in that clinical tone of voice of the scientist dealing with matters and evidence. ‘In school, we can apply specific tutoring adapted to each case but some of those deal with such complexities to which we are not prepared to and which cannot be solved through the years - and I think right if I include Melbourne in these cases.’ he continued, while walking here and fro, his hands behind his back.   
‘We came to the same conclusion, Filius and I.’ Dumbledore agreed.   
‘That’s why I disagree with your idea to recruit him in the future because if he might be intelligent and possess all required qualities to be drafted in the Order; he has not the emotional stability and capacity to deal with complex plans and everything that come from such a position.’ the Potions Master explained, this time shorter and calmer than the previous meetings.   
‘Nevertheless, I think that is too early to condemn him to any change.’ the Headmaster argued. ‘I do believe in him, I do believe that he is able to become a better self than he is now.’ he ended in a smile.   
‘It’s not that I don’t believe neither in you nor in him, but may I point out that you have that tendency to believe in everybody while some don’t deserve it?’ Snape replied back in a snort, stopping his walk and gazing at his employer straight into the eyes.   
‘I reckon I was wrong about Tom but… Not about you.’ Dumbledore’s smile widened and his employee rose his eyes up in an exasperated move. ‘To come back on tracks, I would suggest that you and Filius would talk more in order to deal with William in a more efficient way. I do hope that this idea is in your blood.’  
A new snort and Snape gave off from irritation, angry at those implicit attacks, even though gentle ones, Dumbledore was able to throw him on the face from time to time.   
‘And before you leave, please continue those private lessons for William. I am sure they are a great support to him and he certainly is grateful to you…’  
‘I am not aware of that - yet.’ the Raven cut short before the Headmaster continued in his dramatic tone. ‘I’m not that surprised’, he replied, still smiling. ‘He reminds me of a former student.’


	8. The Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not yet beta'd.

Hogwarts was divided into four Houses, as you all know. Their founders wanted to teach to students under some circumstances dealing with traits, corresponding to them in order to suit as perfectly as possible their teaching methods to the young in front of them. It was proved that it was easier for some teachers to share their knowledge thanks to their similitudes of temperament with the students. Nevertheless, no one had never said that each House traits could be found in every individual, more or less visibly; still all those traits formed a medley in everyone. In addition, no one had said that the Sorting Hat chose the House in regard of what we would be in the future, what we would like to tend as an adult, and not necessarily what we already were. Those facts demonstrated are not enough to simplify and to understand the Hat’s choices, which can be complex and long to take. One of the most notable examples concerned Professor McGonagall to whom Gryffindor and Ravenclaw suited perfectly to her, and the artefact internally debated to himself for a whole five-minute-and-a-half period. However, one of the reasons why it had decided on one over the other would mostly be demonstrated decades later, during the Second Wizarding War.   
Contrary to what History had reminded us about Hatstalls in Hogwarts’ ceremonies, there was one in particular which put poor Hat into difficulty, as the young student wearing it was so complex in mind that the Hat took time to understand how he “worked” before doing its job properly. 

William Melbourne’s mind was so interesting to read for the legilimens Sorting Hat, to the point it compared it as a complex tree view (even though it had no idea of what a computer was to make such an analogy). Nonetheless, one has to be careful not to be reductive: everybody functions with a tree view as a neuronal system. Some were just more elaborate than others. At first, it would think that was a total mess and hard to find one way to proceed. After second thoughts, it would find out the key to make its way into it.   
The first trait which blew up to the Hat was William’s strong sense of loyalty and dedication but the boy only had it towards someone it did not know, whose name was Elizabeth II. In addition, the skepticism in all the other worries somehow cancelled this tendency to put him in Hufflepuff, as the Hat strongly believed it would be difficult for the boy to be confident towards his future roommates.  
The second, belonging to the Hufflepuffs, was his hard-working inclination: the memories showed it he always worked hard for everything he studied. Nevertheless, this trait would be found in every other Houses, so it decided not to put the student under the responsibilities of Pomona Sprout. Then, the second strong trait which came out from all was his restless curiosity. William seemed to have been a child who wondered a lot and read as many books as he could on whatever topic; even though the ones he had been attracted to dominated his own researches.   
However, the possible ambition coming from this curiosity was quite feeble in comparison and ambition in general cruelly lacked in the boy’s mind. He might be cunning, he surely had demonstrating some aspects of his personality to trick people but on safe matters - such as giving food to his cat and pretending he had eaten the whole stuff not to worry his parents. Moreover, considering the current situation, William would suffer in Slytherin due to his blood status and the hints of him being bullied during Primary School strongly convinced the Hat not to put him in there. Gryffindor was out of consideration even if the student had some inclination to act bravely at times and was very kind and polite. In addition, if the Hat had chosen not to put him in Slytherin, that meant not to put him in the rival House as well. The child needed some comfort and peace to feel a bit at ease. Ravenclaw was the last possible choice, and even though he did not really fit in there too, it was the more logical and safer for him at the time. To end it all, the Hat felt that the boy had some inclination to find clues where he was facing what was illogical to him and that would be useful in the future, as it would be useful for his schooling. 

Indeed, this Hatstall provoked a long meeting between the professors at Dumbledore’s study. Indeed, it stressed out poor eleven-year-old William even though he had not a single idea of what that meant in general, but he had felt everybody’s eyes on him and that was enough for him to understand his Sorting was abnormal. 

Now, as he was in fifth year, Snape had already told him he had had Gryffindor reactions to deal with his bullies and that he could be such an idiot to miss pragmatic things - and on that day, the young professor learned about his strong loyalty to the Queen of England and Great Britain, on the most weird way. Otherwise, the Potions Master should have understood it a bit, when the brat brought his own mug every so often during meals. Some should have reported to his attention what was written on it, because it could have been an excellent opportunity for his bullies to attack him on his blood status. As far as things were calm on that point, professor Severus Snape only noticed it when the boy hit him hard at the Great Hall and that half of the tea dampened the Raven’s coat.   
As usual, the young man muttered a growl and a ‘have you a sight disability not to see me?’ told on a threatening tone.   
As usual, the boy shyly looked down at his shoes and murmured a ‘’m sorry, sir, didn’t see you.’ Only then, when the teenager was back on his feet, the professor had a complete view of him and his dark eyes fell on the mug. He even had to look again at it as he did not want to believe what he saw. A quite good painted portrait of the queen was gazing at him, underlined with the words “Long live the Queen”.   
After, the young man felt his teeth clenching to restrain a sigh or a sour reply such as ‘Do you really want to die to show off this or don’t you have a proper brain, Melbourne?’ but he remained silent and just darkly gazed at the Eaglet. He had no problem to be that direct with other students on a regular basis but it was different with Melbourne - completely different. At times, he could not snap his best lines to the boy because he always had in mind that all was different for both of them despite the fact it had been short. If things had turned differently, they would have been - friends? Maybe not, but surely establishing another type of relationship than the one the Potions Master had to develop. He had forced Dumbledore not to say his ‘good side’ to anyone, remember it. That was better for the young man, the former Death Eater, for his cover he wanted to be perfect even if he still did not know when the Dark Lord would come back to life. Yet, he also believed He could come back as he could not conceive He had died miserably in front of an armless baby who had no conscience of his magic. That was pure nonsense to the Raven. However, his Mark had somewhat vanished. It had not its strong black colour anymore and the slow pulsation, like a heart beating, had completely ceased. This proof had let the young man quite skeptical face to the Headmaster’s point of view and assurance about Tom Riddle still alive, but with time he finally believe to it as well. Shyly, doubtfully, but he believed in this theory by now. 

Nevertheless, Snape could not play his proper role all the time with Melbourne. That was beyond his own strengths, that was his greatest weakness as he considered it. Dumbledore had understood it, and even though he did not yet warned his employee on that point because he feared this would be discovered one day and used as a weapon to destroy Snape, he only witnessed the Raven tentatively pretences not to be bound to the boy. Emergency was still at bay so the old wizard decided it was not yet the time to remind the Potions Master about it and preferred to be confident about his abilities in both Occlumency and Legilimency. 

‘This…’ he muttered, pointing at the mug the boy immediately looked at as well.   
‘That’s from my mother.’ William replied and his interruption received a snort of disdain from the professor.   
‘What I wanted to say before you impolitely cut me was that was safer for you to keep it hidden.’ he said in a bitter tone. 

A shine of understanding momentarily passed in the teenager’s eyes to those words. How could he forget about such tiny details but important ones? He deeply sighed to his own stupidity. He then looked back down at his shoes, feeling all miserable. ‘It seems it’s easier for you to find out that my hiring was problematic to your logic than mere evidence not to attract attention to you.’ the young man commented at last, but not on a reproachful tone, merely matter-of-factly. Both looked at each other once more but none of them could define what was into the eyes of the other at that moment. Snape finally broke the eye contact and let the teenager climbing the stairs to join his dorm, and the professor made his way to the Dungeons to his own private place. 

While William was climbing the stairs to calm down a bit his heart racing beatings and his hurried thoughts in the privacy of his dorm - he was on the verge of fainting, seriously - a voice stopped him dead between floor three and floor four. Damn it, he thought as the stair in front of him decided to move on the opposite direction he had intended to go. The teenager closed his eyes and turned his heels to face… Bill Weasley. The older relaxed a bit and even smiled. 

‘Hullo, it’s been a while.’ the younger said half-amused. ‘Didn’t get detention, though.’ he added, this time completely amused.   
‘Better for you, isn’t it?’ the Eaglet replied, before he eyed elsewhere, his limbs frozen because he suddenly was aware of his lack of common humour. Oh, he hated so much those socializing stuff. He totally felt out of place, ill-at-ease. All of these things were so unnatural to him. Nonetheless, the Lion did not mind at all and his smile became noisy. True that was a good omen not being under Snape’s survey somewhere in the Dungeons.   
‘I’ve been writing to my parents about you,’ Bill continued. ‘My father would be pleased to meet you one day. I think that I’ve been a bit too enthusiastic.’ he trailed off, his cheeks turned a bit reddish, knowing he had been too direct to a close stranger, who actually stared at him puzzled. If he had expected it… He could not, true. The only other person apart this boy who wrote about him was Elizabeth, mostly to ask her parents about his own Muggle references he used every so often. 

Bill showed him he was quite good at coming elsewhere from the embarrassing moment as he immediately pointed at the mug his elder was holding and asked what was painted on it. William could only but smile again. ‘That’d please your father, y’know… She’s the Queen, actually.’ he said while showing the portrait properly to an interested Bill. ‘But Snape reminded me that was a silly idea of I to show off with her in the castle…’ he murmured then all gloomy.   
‘True but… You know, my parents told me that there’s no harm being oneself… It’s only the period which worsens everything.’ the Lion replied back. ‘If you had known my uncles, I think you   
would consider your uniqueness differently.’

A slight painful melody at the back of Bill’s voice switched on William’s mental alarm. He therefore did not ask any further detail about those uncles in order not to push Bill to painful memories if there were so. His silence was dearly welcomed for the boy who finally asked some questions about this Queen as he heard so few things about the Muggle Monarch. Both continued their dialogue while walking upstairs, when these blocks of stone willingly inclined to direct them in the right direction. Bill never felt annoyed by William’s detailed narration about the Queen, even though he had come to his favourite of all: Victoria. The Lion never interrupted the Eaglet and he even seemed to like his spontaneous history course.

They finally separated at the corner of a corridor. As William reached his bed, he thought that homonym was quite cool but was saddened he had no people his age like him. Despite Pitt being a nice guy, that was different, but the teenager surely was subjective and only influenced by the fact he had been bullied since his first year here and could only but feared everyone around him. That ended to hurt him more than he currently was so he finished by curling himself on his bed, his head in his pillow, covering his silent cries - he could not go down and pretend everything was fine, he could not go down to join his classmates to endure all of them in the noisy classrooms full of blinding lights, deafening noises, ensnaring smells. So crowded, so stiflingly. He just could not. That was all.. crushed in his anxiety which had worsened all of a sudden. Tears rolled down his cheeks and dampened his pillow but he did not care. Oh, if he could miss class and no one would pay attention to his absence… However his most desire was to be invisible, he was not to the professors, but he could not calm down right now to show himself down to McGonagall’s classroom, at disposal to receive her teaching. He just needed time for once, for bloody once because he was so tired to be the only one giving efforts to fit the normal world. Therefore, he silently cried for a complete more twenty-minute period. 

That was beyond his strengths but he managed to succeed to quit his dorm to join his classmates for History of Magic - oh well, he could have skipped this class too, as Binns did not care about the number of students facing him, but he was sure that was better for him not to worsen his situation by skipping a whole morning, so he clenched both fists and jaws to fight his anxiety and sat down next to Elizabeth who eyed at him discreetly and all worried. Even though she knew he had not the temper to cooperate in those moods of his, she decided to ask him where he was during Transfiguration - but she kept for herself the fact the Head of Gryffindors had displayed a right worry about the Eaglet: he would be aware of it soon. While the teenager was writing the date and the course heading, he muttered he simply was in his dorm, keeping for himself the nature of this skipping because he felt so miserable to have cried a lot.   
Both of them remained silent until the end of the double-hour course, trying their best not to yield to Binn’s sleep-inducing voice. 

 

*

 

‘You have skipped a lot of classes this week.’ Snape said matter-of-factly during their weekly private lesson.   
William kept his attention over his cauldron where Draught number nine was being prepared, ignoring his professor’s words. Nevertheless, he felt all numb, all crushed by shame because everyone in the castle knew every of his gestures and that had some impact on the people taking care of all of the students here. In addition, this smell escaping from the cauldron was taunting his hypersensitivity and he was trying his best not to run away as it was so strong to his poor nose. Still, his white face, more ill-like than usual, did not escape Snape’s scrutiny; not to mention the boy’s dark marks under his eyes which had a strong purple shade. The Raven took his black wand in his hand in smooth gestures and produced a series of moves above the cauldron: he had put the potion in stasis. 

‘Now, if you please tell me what’s going on.’ he said, while the teenager looked at him, quite surprised before he deeply sighed as he had no desire to talk at all. ‘You said nothing to Mrs Pomfrey and to your Head of House who is particularly worried about you.’ the young man murmured, more and more threateningly as he was talking to be sure the Eaglet would understand that his stubbornness to remain silent was out of purpose. ‘I’d like to be honest with you, Melbourne, but if you don’t cooperate, we may not help you properly. You surely have heard of how things can worsen for students who remain on their own and…’   
‘I’m used to it.’ William cut him.   
They watched at each other, this situation was becoming stifling to the boy, and he only managed to murmur a ‘sir’ to end his sentence, to remain in polite considerations. Snape snorted and crossed his arms, eying the Eaglet in a dark look.   
‘That’s not because you’re used to it that we can’t change all of it, your behaviour would kill you one day if you stubbornly continue this way.’ the Potions Master said in a rough tone. 

The teenager was tired of that and the smell from the potion was giving him a violent headache, he could feel it and tears were at the edge of his eyes.   
‘First, you’re going to wash your face because you look like a proper ghost and… We’ll make a pause so that you would avoid a wonderful faint.’ the professor commanded. William cooperated, all thankful Snape could have understood his problem and went at the bottom of the classroom where all sinks were. He profusely enjoyed cold water on his face but soon was aware that he needed more to recollect himself, so he was all even more thankful to his professor who was waiting for him at the threshold. 

Spring was here, but it was quite moist and cold at this place, still it was really here, as the park was literally blooming everywhere. Thankfully, the wind allowed William not to suffer much from all the smells the different flowers and trees were producing all over the place. In addition they were quite agreeable contrary to Draught number nine’s.  
Both of them met some students here and there but no one dared to glance at them more than necessary, as the Raven could fear them to their wits - and his gloomy gaze kept them at good distance. William, on his side, said no word. He just tried to enjoy his walk and this quite complete silence surrounding them, as it was so rare when living in a castle full of people ten months a year. 

He therefore totally enjoyed it as his professor made no attempt to talk to him. They surely composed a strange pair of lonely persons, walking side by side, each of them stuck in his thoughts, watching around them from time to time. The Eaglet sometimes glanced at the young man’s face and he knew at once that behind his mask, he internally ranted some preoccupying reflexion - the corner of his lips was twitching restlessly, the only indication he was not that unsensitive. Nevertheless, William kept his thoughts for himself, did not want to engage any conversation, sure that if he did he would receive sour remarks and the ability of Snape to turn words against his co-speaker already was settled. Still, the teenager felt a bit concerned about the Potions Master. He never showed any of this but William could easily mind that he suffered in silence and in complete oblivion as he certainly felt torn apart after his former best friend’s assassination. Such resilience was impossible according to the student. Nonetheless, all was coherent regarding Snape’s temperament: he was secretive, never displayed any emotion, always kept his at bay. For the very short time-period of their some sort friendship four years ago, William had always seen him like this. He felt so sorry and so understanding - maybe that was due to his own attitude that the Head of Slytherins dedicated some efforts to break William’s own behaviour. He soon decided not to think about it once more because he felt all ill-at-ease to worry that much about the very person walking by his side and he would likely despise this if he ever knew it. 

On the other side, Snape was deep in thought concerned about Melbourne. This boy clearly worried all his professors, certainly was aware of this, still he stubbornly remained silent. That was dangerous to behave like he did, as himself knew that was the best way to keep oneself drowned in pain. However he sometimes cooperated and tried not to worsen his case on disciplinary records. His very idea to teach some private lessons had looked pleasant at first but no real progress had improved - Well, it only had been four months they had started those, the human complexity showed all its omnipotence here. Indeed the boy had progressed on subject matters but he - the young man paused and corrected himself straight away: Melbourne had progressed as he sometimes talked to him about his bullying and some of his thoughts. He surely needed time, more than the curriculum offered him as it appeared to be. As slow as he was, he would not reach a better state of mind before the end of his schooling at Hogwarts, the Raven thought ironically.

‘Well, are you better now? Can we continue to brew this nasty Draught of yours?’ the Raven sarcastically asked in a half-tone. He even pursued his lips in a mockery. William smiled too, to his most surprise. Then, the professor made a gesture to invite the young to come back inside and they went their way through the castle, no one daring to interrupt them.

 

*

 

William took one of his notebooks and a pen before laying on his bed comfortably. His head against his series of cushions, his limbs stretched and covered with a plaid, his notebook on his lap. After his private lesson with Snape, the teenager had felt the need to break his loneliness - he could not with classmates so he decided to exchange with Queen Victoria again, as he always had done since he had started to read books about her.   
Even though the Potions Master hadn’t made any comment about how bad his condition was after their walk, they only brewed this draught, William was yet aware of the young man’s worries as if he had read his thoughts. Therefore he wanted to challenge his own progress to deal with his problems, even if that meant to write to a long-dead Queen. 

_Dear Victoria,_  
It had been a long time since I’ve written my last letter. I first sincerely apologize for this silence. Then, time had been quite busy lately, between our mock exams on December and March, those - incidents - I still cannot name them as they ought to be; and the trial so far.   
Yes, Madam, I contributed to a trial to support Prof Snape and that clearly was a painful support mentally, even though I perfectly was aware of my dedication to it. I dearly wanted to help him on my poor level. Still, that reminded me too vividly of a recent past I am still haunted with - but it was worth it.   
And his private lessons - plus, the detentions because I still defend myself. School rules forbid the use of magic outside of the classrooms - he even told me I acted more like a Gryffindor than anything else. True. That is only the truth. I cannot deny it.   
His lessons are exhaling - I mean it. It was as if he had accepted I could go on on my way, alone true, and on my own rhythm clearly - and I feel safe in here, when there are only the both of us in that classroom.   
I feel safe.   
He surely is aware of this but never commented it dryly as he used to do so elsewhere. Oh, I don’t deny he is still the same but as he is the instigator of those private lessons, he certainly has an agenda in mind - composed of I being safe - now that I realize it.   
I never thanked him for what he is doing for me. Mostly because I am shy and am afraid he would mock me - or I am afraid of embarrassing him. I don’t know. 

The Eaglet stopped there his letter and put his notebook aside. Pain released a bit during this writing process but he did not mind it yet. He wanted to draw - he loved drawing too. By the way, he got up to take some sheets of paper and laid back on his bed.   
Queen Victoria came out of his pen. That was easy to draw her by memory as he had contemplated many photos of this Queen. He could draft the shape of her face, eyes, nose, eyelashes, lips without any model. That was not obsession - or it was a kind of obsession; but he evaluated his dedication to the nineteenth century British history as a safety guard to retrieve in whenever he felt in danger.   
His high anxiety level lately complicated his interaction with the world around him. That situation was part of the dangers he could face. 

 

*

 

Flitwick had finally managed to take time to investigate on Melbourne’s place where he spent his summer since he had been an orphan - his very words still haunting the Head of Ravenclaws. How could someone feel so out of place to the point to run away every single day and wandering in a big city such as London on one’s own? The man was far from his utmost surprise when he started to dug in. Let be clear: he was aware that his charge had socializing troubles but he had managed to deal with total strangers in a society he had not belonged to until he attended secondary school. So why not succeeding (in his capability) once more? Well, human considerations were more elaborate than that but the Charms professor had a some sort of intuition that was telling him that something went wrong. Despite the fact he only knew Melbourne for four and a half year, he was bound to him. He appreciated the boy as he was, so brilliant when he showed this side of his, so clumsy when dealing with pragmatic life, and his eyes - such eyes could not belong to a human being. That was why he warned every Defense   
Against Dark Forces professor not to be fooled by those eyes each year.   
By the way, Flitwick had asked Dumbledore to leave the castle for the whole Saturday and the Headmaster accepted. He merely asked back if his employee needed to be accompanied, the Head of Ravenclaws simply declined. He preferred to make this trip on his own, he had made it personal. His instinct was his own problem to solve. Why bothering a colleague due to an intuition? He had decided that this possible waste of time only had to impact himself. 

London was all greyish, rain dropped heavily and the wind was particularly violent and cold. Flitwick almost was aghast of the huge weather difference, but he had to remind that he was now closer to the shore and the Thames was near him - and this spring was so timid to come up. From where he was, he could spot double-decker buses and taxis on a regular basis. The streets were crowded with pedestrians, riders, cars as well. The usual restlessness of the capital of Great-Britain almost knock off poor Charms professor who lately was so used to a tranquil way of life. It had been a while since the last time he travelled in London. 

To find the orphanage was easiest than he had initially feared. The building from the late seventies was simple and useful, that is. Quite gloomy and unattractive, still children needed to feel some life in the places they lived in to rebuild a sense of homeness. The man sighed and walked up to the three stairs leading to the heavy wooden entrance door, on top of it the name of the orphanage weirdly shone due to the poor light outside. He then rang at the doorbell and he waited a couple of minutes before someone opened to him and asked to him at once who he was and what he wanted. 

‘My name is Filius Flitwick and I have an appointment with the head of this orphanage.’ He simply replied.   
The man who had opened to him then demanded him to wait at a waitroom while he picked up a heavy grey object from the secretary and composed a series of movements to dial… Oh, a telephone, the Charms professor remembered at once. He unfortunately could not hear what the other was saying as he was whispering. He came back to the tiny man a few minutes later, surely he has asked if what he had answered him was true because his non verbal communication even became more pleasant to him as he invited him to follow in the maze of corridors facing them. Thankfully this man was here to guide him because he could not guess where such signs indicating the different secretaries and so on meant to him, as he mostly dealt with administrative wizardry in his whole life. They came upstairs, that was a real sports to the Charms professor due to his short legs but he never complained and never was out of breath. Mental strength had such an impact and his own was focused on Melbourne. At the end of the last corridor he crossed, a closed wooden door made of pine awaited him. The man before him knocked three times and a voice inside invited to come in. 

‘Mr Flitwick, sir.’ he said, introducing the wizard and retrieved to let him to enter properly in a large study - but not richly decorated. This orphanage was not one of the best of the city, only dedicated on pragmatic considerations though. The heavy man now facing him got up and joined him to shake hands before he guided him to one of the visitors’ seats and sat down behind his desk. The door had been closed in the while - they were now all alone. Perfect, Flitwick thought. 

‘You are one of the professors of Melbourne in that highschool of Scotland, aren’t you?’ the Head then said.   
To Muggles, Hogwarts had been presented as a selective private school in which education and instruction were at top levels. The rest was on charge of the Ministry of Magic to offer a proper cover not to be disturbed by the curious Muggles.   
‘I am his Head actually, I’m in charge of two hundred fifty young as well as I teach some physics to the whole of them.’ the Charms professor answered in a calm tone. ‘I think you already met the Headmaster, sir Dumbledore since Melbourne lives here.’   
‘Yes, a charming man, a bit… if I may say so, eccentric on some points?’ the Head replied a bit shyly. Flitwick smiled at this portrayal which was true. That relieved his co-speaker a bit then. ‘I therefore was curious why you wanted to talk to me, but reminding Melbourne, I guess that he has some troubles in your school too - don’t mind it, but I don’t deny his potential capacities of being in such a school - er…’

He really felt ill-at-ease, the Charms professor analyzed. Oh, what was occuring in that place?   
‘Mr Melbourne is a great mind, true. His marks are at top, true but why do you think he has troubles? Has he some in here too to state that point?’   
The Head sighed and bit his lower lip from apprehension, before he cleared his throat and finally answered.   
‘As he has some… social problems - he doesn’t fit in there, not at all - I thought that he would bring those with him when he goes to school. The teenagers with issues often work this way. I only report what my employees say, as I didn't witness anything yet, but it appears that the other young didn’t receive Melbourne correctly - that is to say...’  
‘He’s been bullied, that is.’ Flitwick cut short, his fears confirmed at once.   
His co-speaker only nodded before he laid back on his seat, all defeated. ‘All of them suffer from their precarious situations and sometimes may be harsh between themselves, maybe more than if they had proper families. It is sometimes the rule of the stronger in here - as elsewhere. And Melbourne didn’t accept those rules, such as he is quite shy and…’ he trailed off. 

Oh, if he were only shy, the Charms professor thought bitterly but it was more than simple shyness. ‘It’s difficult to deal with him, clearly. He spends his whole days outside and we fear that he has troubles - well, we already had current visits from the police so far…’   
Silence fell over both men who eyed at each other, all tense.   
‘What are the nature of those visits?’ Flitwick finally broke off.   
‘Oh, that’s mainly because he still is underage and they didn’t know anything about his situation, so they thought he was homeless or had family issues but as far as they knew about him being an orphan and living there, they were delighted. Still, he had crossed their way several times then. They were quite kind with him, so their mission is to accompany him here when it’s late. They help him when he succeeds to lose himself in the city, which is rare as we soon discovered that he knows the public transportation so far, so that he can find back his track in the maze of London easily.’

Surely he had to know who were those police officers.   
‘And they kind of ended up being bound to Melbourne and liked to know how he’s doing from time to time.’ the Head concluded in a half smile, inclined to depict that was mostly considered as a positive aspect of the whole situation. 

The meeting ended a few couple of minutes later and they shook hands before Flitwick went back to Scotland. He fetched Dumbledore before dinner and gave him his report and exceptionally stayed in his study until the following day. He first thought he would be on his own during that evening, but at around ten someone knocked at his door. Snape entered and invited himself.   
‘So that’s about Melbourne?’ the Head of Ravenclaws asked in a half tone, all exhausted. The Potions Master sighed, yes, again but he felt that something more was crashing down his colleague than usual.   
‘Just to tell you how our private lesson went so far.’ he replied. ‘We took a pause in-between because he was all anxious and all, so we walked outside and he could finish his work in a better mood and inclination - smells were too strong to him.’ he indicated at last.   
‘Thank you to adapt your courses to his profile. That surely helps him a lot.’  
Silence for a period. Snape could watch an unusual tension coming from the Charms professor.   
‘What’s that?’ he finally asked. 

Flitwick sighed once more. He decided to inform his young colleague, after all Dumbledore had asked the both of them to cooperate entirely in order to deal with Melbourne more appropriately than before.   
‘I made a trip to London today to meet the Head of the orphanage where he lives, and… My intuition was right.’  
Snape’s eyes shone from understanding. ‘You too thought he would be bullied there as well, that is.’ he then murmured. ‘Yes, you know, that’s easy to make this point when we closely watch the boy. He again told me he was used to it so the meaning is clear: he has bullies everywhere.’ He cleared his purpose while his colleague had looked at him a bit surprised he had the same intuition - the same despite the fact he only had taught Melbourne since a couple of months.   
‘I gave a report to the Headmaster - I don’t want to remain passive.’ Flitwick said, then gave off.   
‘But if he can’t feel safe in that orphanage, where could he live then? He has no siblings - I consider all of them dead (Flitwick gasped to this violent statement of his) so I exclude them. Changing him of place cannot guarantee anything… Oh my… Well, one good point in all this mess is that Melbourne is inclined to consider my classroom safe for him - but it’s only for a couple of hours per week.’ Snape slowly exposed his point of view on the whole affair.


	9. Where is my home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not yet beta'd. I just finished to write chapter 13 so publications would slow down at any moment.

Before the spring holidays, William experienced a most surprising support he could not imagine to come at first. 

The teenager had had a break with his bullies during the long week of mock exams - surely even his bullies wanted to succeed in their studies too. How ironic it was - Well, he had been fetching the library to work his Transfiguration and had sat on his usual place, one of the seats in the Potions section as he had always done since his first year. Things were going quite well, and he sincerely thought it was as he could quote some legislative arguments in his essay, until he heard some footsteps coming closer to him and - bang! His drafts, his book and his quill fell all over around him, his essay went useless as the ink fell on it. The footsteps ran the opposite while he stood up all shaken, torn between pure anger and despair. One of his panicking reactions dealt with his studies and he started to breathe fast while his panic attack grew up in him. He only could see them from the back so that it went impossible for him to identify them (he had believed he was so useless to manage to identify at least one of his bullies, but it was like he had not the capacity to do so). In addition, Mrs Pince was busy in ordering books at the opposite of the entrance so she could not witness anything. He did not know what to do, his mind all blank and made a few steps forth and back, endlessly twitching his hands - what to do? What to do? What to do? While his breath became erratic and he could faint at any time now. 

 

Then, a guy he did not know, or he could not recall, came to him and took his stuff to put them back on the desk and he even muttered a Scourgify on his essay before handing it to him with a smile. ‘Here it is. Everything’s fine.’ he then said in a warm and reassuring tone. William eyed at him from the corner of his eyes, barely could smile back and say a proper thank you, therefore he nodded and the guy in front of him shrugged to it - a Hufflepuff indicated his tie. ‘By the way, I don’t know if you remember me, but we share classes in Transfiguration, Astronomy and Potions so far - I’m Thomas.’ he finally said, extending his hand the Eaglet shook shyly. ‘William.’ he succeeded to whisper. Said Thomas smiled again, nodded and replied back he perfectly knew who he was. Oh, yes, of course as you show off… William thought bitterly. ‘Y’know, you’re the only one not that much scared by Snape and that’s amazing because we all are impressed.’ Thomas mused and chuckled next as his co-speaker looked at him all aghast to this. He then bade goodbye and went back to his seat over there close to the windows with some of his own classmates. 

The following day during breakfast, dear Winston visited his master. He bit gently his finger affectionately and hooted while William surprisingly saw a piece of parchment rolled around one of his paws he immediately took to deliver his owl who was now all concentrated to steal a bit of his toasts. The teenager did not mind, he was far from hungry as usual, a knot due to stress at his stomach. He then read the message: As the holiday come, I have to dedicate my weekends to my duties as Head to know so far where my charges are in their orientations so there is no private lesson until I say you they start again. Don’t waste this time in doing nothing: you have OWLs coming over soon. No need to be signed, he recognized it from his writing and a small smile crossed his lips a few seconds, even though he was sad he would not have any further private lessons. Well, he understood Snape had to fulfill his responsibilities and himself had a meeting with his own Head just before the holidays - He was not in a hurry to talk about himself, even if that dealt with his choices of keeping or not some topics for the next two years. ‘Who wrote to you?’ Elizabeth asked next to him. William shrugged and answered in a whisper ‘Private message.’ His classmate did not go further in the investigation - he had the right not to tell anything, that was true; but she also felt sorry not to share anything anymore since the Potions incident. She admitted she had been distant for a while and that he had suffered from this, but now that she had started to talk to him every so often like before, she had hoped he would too. Unfortunately, she was wrong. She understood his reaction and she could feel lucky as well as he remained polite and all with her but their closeness had been broken. She sighed and went back to talk with Virginia and Michael - yes, she was lucky because no one had made anything to come to William as she had done even though Michael had never been so close to him but he had always remained fair with his classmate. 

 

William let his plate half full of the remainings of toasts his owl had not eaten and went up to the Common Room to prepare his bag for the day to start, before he hurried down to go out to join the few students who had chosen Care of Magical Creatures. Their professor, Kettleburn, was a rough man, a bit tanned to have travelled a lot in his life, his face covered with scars as he had faced several dangerous beasts. The Eaglet had closely chosen this topic from despair because he never wanted to take Divination (some had related the strong smells, the tiny classroom, the subjects to which they spent time to interpret from books) and he had longly considered Ancient Runes but finally wanted to break from his usual courses by encountering animals - for a change. He soon considered his choice as a wise one: they mainly spent their courses outside, they could interact with animals even though some demanded a delicate approach. Still, that was all enough and satisfying to William. They currently were working with Bowtruckles. Even if they mostly had to draw them, the course itself was a sport as these creatures were far from gentle and willingly being manipulated to pose. Before the sketching period, students had to find them, as they were difficult to spot, first because they could be mistaken as tree branches, then because they were as savage as any other wild creature. To spare any useless harm, Kettleburn had warned the teenagers to be careful when dealing with Bowtruckles - but, as usual, some reckless did not believe those seemingly fragile creatures would do any harm so Pomfrey had to cure some of them from cuts. 

 

On that day, the teenager was pairing with Pitt. This relieved William a bit not to be bothered by the girls’ worries and overreactions because Pitt had that logic not to question on personal grounds and actually was a perfect pair to work with. Both of them were scrutinizing the Bowtruckles which were gathered in a small wooden box to protect themselves to be harmed or to harm the students. The Eaglets were sketching the creatures in silence, only exchanging to check the informations they had so far on the lesson not to make any mistake. 

Yes, clearly the Care of Magical Creatures course and working with Pitt was the best part of William’s day. For him, this was one of those rare moments when he could relax a tiny bit and enjoy open air and closeness to nature, as he used to enjoy while he was a child back at Reading at home - oh, home… He missed home vividly. He failed sensing it in the orphanage where he now spent his summer holidays even though it was a Muggle building in a Muggle neighborhood. Nostalgia started to wash over him and he had much difficulties to keep every emotion at bay while finishing his sketch of the creatures under his eyes. 

 

*

 

He surely had tried to calm himself a bit during the whole day - well, during the whole week before this meeting, but William barely succeeded in breathing normally and still was overwhelmed by his anxiety when he finally knocked at Flitwick’s study door on that evening. He soon came in and his breathing did not change at all whereas he had the proof everything looked normal and usual in here, and even from his Head posture. Oh why was he so stressed out about orientation and the all? He certainly worried too much on every bit part of his life, the teenager thought at once while he sat on one of the chairs at his disposal, with a bitter inner tone which resembled to someone else’s to his taste. 

‘How was this week so far?’ the Charms professor asked first in a gentle tone, his eyes focused on his student’s face. Alert, the teenager shot his professor a surprised glimpse as there was no indication this meeting would turn up into the monthly one he already had had. That froze William a bit before he eventually shrugged his shoulders, as he always did when people asked him so. Nevertheless, Flitwick glanced at him with insistence. 

 

‘Okay, I guess that was quite correct as nothing peculiar occurred.’ the Eaglet finally said, spotting somewhere on the wall behind the Charms professor. ‘Holidays are calmer since some students go home…’ he trailed off to fulfill his thought. Flitwick nodded in silence then opened his charge’s file, closing the personal topic from now on, basing his decision on the lack of clear evidence Melbourne would be stressed out - well, he surely was, but not on the usual reasons. 

‘So, I asked you to come here to talk about your orientation with you. As you know, this is one of the main important parts to deal with this particular year of your curriculum because what you’ve decided here will determine your future for the - at least and most fortunately - six years to come.’ Flitwick started as introduction on the matter. As his words were unsurprising, the teenager did not change his spot, nevertheless the adult knew perfectly well he still was listening to him as time learned him that. ‘By the way, according to the university studies you wish to attend, we may consider which topic you want to have and the topics you want to drop for the next two years. If I may give you a piece of advice before we talk about it, I suggest you not to keep a large number of different courses as your timetable will be quite complete with a multiplication of classes on those topics and the personal work will extend. Do you understand?’

 

A quick nod was enough to him. Indeed, William had come to the same conclusion: he could not keep all of his courses the years to come even though he had wished to. Nonetheless, he sighed at the very idea to drop Care of Magical Creatures because that was the only one where he could breathe properly. However, considering his future, this topic would be useless and waste some time that would be useful to prepare his other topics. 

 

The both of them took some time to complete administrative papers proving the Eaglet’s choices of orientation, in regard of his wishes he had to hand out during November of that school year. Therefore, he kept subjects he liked to study and specialize: Charms, Defense, Potions; and the ones he wished to keep nevertheless: Transfiguration, Herbology (as it was necessary for Potions), History of Magic and Astronomy. Then, Flitwick looked back at William’s grades and assured him that if he continued this way, he would succeed in achieving his goals to fulfill his professors’ wills. Next the Charms professor dared to ask if that was not that much to deal with as all of those subjects demanded a lot of work, but William tried to calm him down despite the fact he dearly wanted to tell him that if he dropped more subjects, he would get bored to death during his nights. Nonetheless, the teenager kept this thought to himself as this surely was not a real and educational reason to write down on official papers. Anyway, Flitwick added that William still had time to modify his curriculum and could ask for help at any time. 

 

The tiny man finally decided to end this meeting on this point because there were no reason to continue and extend the monthly meeting, not to mixing two different aspects of his student’s schooling. In addition, he was not in the goal to put William on a posture in which he could feel ill-at-ease. The boy was already overwhelmed and the Head of Ravenclaws did not want to drown him into. 

‘Have a nice holiday, Melbourne,’ Flitwick bade his goodbye while the teenager was a the threshold. 

 

*

 

When the castle had emptied, William sincerely believed that he would live quite good holidays, so that his spirits had started to elevate. Even though the stress of the proximate exams still was present in mind, the teenager tried to manage it by following a strict timetable on revising and time of rest. As the weather had become more agreeable, he sometimes studied in the park and took some rest as well there. Spring was his favorite season, still different smells could interfere with his hypersensitivity. At that time of the year, warmth was correct and even fresh evenings were manageable and appreciated. Great gulfs of air in that area of Great Britain allowed this. 

 

That was so calm he had started to doze off under a tree, a book on his lap. Nights were still similar as usual: complicated. Perfect temperature, perfect weather, so that his mind slowly went to a nap. Nevertheless, life would be tricky and overpresent whatever we wished and desired to elude some parts of it. We could not escape this as long as we would like. 

 

William soon thought that much breaks, pleasurable ones, could not last as long as he wished. He even had thought that was suspicious everything looked so perfect, too perfect and he was right in his reasoning: as soon as his gentle bubble broke down at once when the Headmaster himself come out to find him under that very tree and was watching him for a while before he decided to wake the teenager under his scrutiny. 

 

The Eaglet first was all grumpy, he sometimes was worse than cats when one woke them up, but he quickly blushed and muttered disorganized sentences when he realized who had woken him up. He even covered his face with his both hands from a slight shame, avoiding eye contact as much as he could. Oh, dear, what was that? Why Dumbledore himself wanted to see him? He finally breathed longly and forced himself to gaze at the old man who still was watching him and by so, the student discovered that the blue eyes displayed some worry and that rang a bell in the boy’s mind. WHAT AGAIN, he internally sighed, all exasperated and upset. He had done no rule break, he had done nothing that we could reproach him to so, for once, for a change. He had behaved quite well these past days and weeks, repeating himself like a mantra ‘not to answer back to anyone’. He even gave some extra points to his House thanks to his work in the different courses he had and had tried not to sleep at all for his lack of correct nights. 

 

As the Headmaster took some time to watch the teenager, so that it was like he had had access to his thoughts because the only thing he said in a murmur was: ‘This time, we’ll talk about your personal ground, not the disciplinary one.’ 

 

This - this scared even more William than he usually could because what was more dangerous to him was his personal ground. He hated talking about it, he hated talking about himself, he hated talking about his past, his present and his future. That was so private. Please, Lord M, give me the strength I lack to possess, he thought before he finally got up, though he was not ready to face what was going to occur next at all. 

 

‘WHY did you do that? Why did you go there to investigate, to… to… ‘ he stammered, his emotions overwhelming his reasoning too much to compose a clear speech. His whole body was shaking, tears at his eyes, he felt all betrayed, all angry, all desperate. 

‘William, please,’ Dumbledore said, a hand to demand him silently to sit down and calm down at the same time. ‘I didn’t. I am not behind this investigation as you name it, but professor Flitwick had judged it necessary and he told me everything which was to be in my knowledge. In regard of his report, I daresay it was an emergency. Could we let it all unknown to the adults responsible of you? Could we let you in that situation when we are aware of it? I don’t think so, by the way you have to rely on us and accept this. So, please, sit down…’ 

‘And breathe, for Merlin’s sake.’ Snape muttered at the boy’s left. William was at the verge to roll his eyes in reaction to his professor’s antics but he could not move at all nor could he say anything, a knot in his throat. 

 

Dumbledore was on the point to say something but the Raven stopped him halfway and murmured a ‘no, give up the idea he’d sit down. He feels in danger, so to overcome this, he’s on the best posture to either defend himself or to run away.’ His tone was pragmatic, not judgemental. He then glanced at the teenager who shot him a glimpse of acknowledgement. On his side, the headmaster showed no sign of willing to question this attitude and even kindly smiled. In addition, he quickly understood this attitude, considering everything the boy had come through these last years - this posture was natural and a sign of his adaptation to his environment which would be hostile under William’s own vision. 

 

‘The first point I want to cover with you is that according to Filius, nothing peculiar had been made to solve the problems you are encountering at this orphanage. The lack of information on that point from the man managing the building shows hints of passivity,’ he added to complete his thought. 

 

While he was speaking, the Eaglet was changing points of focalization from time to time, but as soon as the Headmaster stopped, the boy shot him a glance, his eyes wide - he then swallowed slowly and cut the eye contact to lose his gaze at the window behind the old man. 

‘That’s…’ he trailed off, ‘that’s so common… those sort of things.’ he ended his sentence, unable to elaborate, not from a lack of ideas and examples, but from a lack of energy as he slowly had started to lose strength to fight back. ‘Some of the adults can be part of the orphans’ misery, you know…’ As soon as he said it, he regretted it by the way both adults looked at him quite concerned - or a bit shocked. The fact that Snape displayed some emotions disturbed the student much. ‘Wai… What?’ William croaked. ‘That’s so banal, so why… why all of this?’ 

‘Because we try to fulfill our responsibilities as we chose our job (here, Snape snorted very slightly but he was heard) and we clearly worry about all of our students here and want the best for them (again, Snape snorted). So that their well-being is taken at stake.’ Dumbledore gently answered the boy. ‘And as far as no one there is trying to offer a solution to help you, we therefore are in charge of it. I have talked longly with Filius to portray as clearly as possible your situation and spent a bit of my proper time to consider it and try to figure out the best solution for you; that ended with the presence of professor Snape here,’ he gestured a hand at the Potions Master’s direction, ‘as I finally shared my idea with him and he respected the need to share it with you before rejecting it ad vitam aeternam.’ 

 

Thanks anyone from the Muggle Saints, William understood this Latin phrase and so raised an eyebrow from disbelief and suspicion. That surely was an odd solution if Snape wanted to say his veto. 

‘Here, I advise you to sit down,’ the Raven muttered, his gaze had darkened in the while. 

Things were going worse with time, William thought for himself, as he obeyed and sat down at once - by use as he knew that not obeying the young man attracted his anger at once. 

 

‘I know that it comes the opposite way from what I initially asked you earlier this year’, Dumbledore stated while Snape kept glancing at him all angry (he dared not to hide this from now on). ‘But I guess that would be better for you to soothe things up from now on… That’s how I figure out all of this because I demanded you too much at once and... ‘ There he paused and watched William with a lot of warmth in his blue eyes. ‘Better of for you to have someone to look after rather than drowning yourself in your researches during the summer.’

Snape coughed to clear his throat before replying ‘You guess things without noticing they would disturb the concerned people… I am perfectly fine doing researches, far less babysitting a teenager.’ he pointed out dryly. ‘and did you consider that… they would find out one day or another? That I’d watch over a Muggleborn teen.’ he then added. 

‘You are right there but consider things as they are.’ Dumbledore answered in a calm tone (his employee had to admit the boy already knew about his status, but had said nothing on the way that had occurred). ‘As soon as Tom vanished, Death Eaters were arrested and the others pretended they have been manipulated and to make this believable, that would be wise from them not to keep in touch with one another for a couple of time. Then, if I remember well what you told me on how the organization was, Tom made all he could do to keep all your identities secret to one another in order not to blow up the whole of it if everyone of you had been caught by the Aurors, right?’

 

Snape could only but had to agree with this statement with a stern nod, clearly unsatisfied by all of this. 

‘In addition, only the Ministry is aware of your location at London.’

‘But they would find out if they wanted to, you know… Some of them are really influential and get the information they need whenever they want.’ the young man contradicted the Headmaster. 

‘Not if your file is under secret or falsified to any stranger who would wish to read it.’ Dumbledore reassured him with a sparkle in his eyes. ‘And it’s only for the time until William is on age to do on his own, if you want to shorten things as much as you can.’ 

‘Knowing to whom we are talking about, it would be more suitable to keep him in a safe area whenever he wishes to stay.’ the Potions Master commented in a low voice, but as William could hear, there was no reproach stated here, still he felt even more ashamed than he initially felt. He only but could not look at his professors straight in the eye so he kept contemplating the floor. ‘I say this only because of the whole report you made as an introduction of this meeting.’ the Raven added. ‘If you ever worry about the boy, that would be stupid to throw him out of a comfortable living space only two years later. So, again, why me?’

‘The answer is yet clear.’ Dumbledore answered in a matter-of-factly tone, but not judgemental. ‘You know each other quite well and… Yes, Severus, I am aware that the whole situation both embarrasses and is difficult to handle to both of you and you quite manage it well.’ he cut short the upcoming reaction of his employee by raising a hand. ‘Let me be clear: if I choose you despite other professors here is that William knows you on other behalves than only the professor side of you and would fit quicker and easier than with any of his other professors here. As this is an emergency, I needed to choose the more suitable situation. Moreover, I daresay that both your personalities quite fit perfectly to one another, so it won’t be a bother to watch over him. I do believe in it, as I do believe in you.’

 

A short pause welcomed them while the information dug in all the minds present in the study. 

‘Still, we didn’t hear Melbourne’s opinion until then.’ Snape finally said while he turned his attention to the teenager who sheepishly kept his head down. ‘Even though he is underage, he still has his proper mind about it, as far as all of this concerns him first hand.’ Dumbledore agreed with a nod and then looked at William too, awaiting his say. The student started to shiver slightly and swallowed hard before he asked in a frightful voice ‘Would I still go to the library if I move at yours?’ 

 

Both adults widened their eyes in surprise as they did not expect that at all. They thought that it would be difficult convincing him, reassuring him, calming him down and so on and so forth. Did they miss something about him? Did they think that as far as he had huge difficulties to feel at ease anywhere he would struggle with this proposal? Or was it a way for him to calm himself down on his own? 

‘Which one?’ Snape asked out of curiosity, having in mind there were quite a few of them in the city. 

‘The London library, sir.’ the boy muttered. ‘I possess a fidelity card there and I… wander there whenever I want so… But I need to reactivate my public transportation card every summer to jump to there…’ He trailed off before he closed his mouth, even more ill-at-ease than he could be until now. 

The very idea to live at Snape’s scared him a lot because it first would mean to change places once more and secondly to handle with the new situation as Snape being his professor most of the time and his tutor the remaining of it and - yes, that cheered him a little bit because he liked him but with the previous years and this one he had started to bury his friendship feelings towards his professor, therefore things got much more complex than to deal with a complex notion in class. That, among every other consideration hurt him and embarrassed him because even the jolt of hope that grew up in him made him sick of it. He had made his best to make the current situation better for both of them as he was aware that was as hard for him as it was for the Raven. 

 

‘But on the part living with me…’ Snape hesitated. ‘If I ever accept the Headmaster’s idea, would you mind not to be looked after closely… Because I’m not…’

‘I quite manage on my own’, the Eaglet answered, cutting him, noting his embarrassment before turning a bit red to cut his professor. ‘I mostly spend my time reading and studying… OK, then with what professor Dumbledore said… That’s only because I’m not that well in this orphanage, that's why I encountered those policemen, but they’re good guys and just meant well and… Can I keep in touch with them too?’ he suddenly asked with a high-pitched tone. 

 

Snape sighed heavily. The boy clearly was all shaken, no matter how he considered their brief friendship. He could understand this, as moving from place to place without the capacity to settle in properly surely shook people. 

‘If I may insist…’ the Potions Master went back on tracks. 

‘If I put aside fears and elucubrations, well, that’s a bit like here in school: you have some rules to behave in your house, I follow them or I get punished…’ he stopped there, swallowed hard because he did not know what kind of punishment Snape could give him in that case. ‘I remain polite, obedient, I leave your rooms while you’re doing your researches but that’d be easy for me to deal with as I am able to busy myself whenever I get a book to read on.’ William pointed out in the clinical tone of his. ‘Is that correct?’ he then shyly asked for approval as both adults looked at him all concerningly. ‘That’s not that I’m eager to do this… I don’t know what to think about it, all honestly but… I reckon that’d be better than this orphanage at all.’ he trailed off then, his voice broke at the end, as he chose to be honest till the end. He finally ducked his head between his shoulders not able to face neither his melted feelings nor the professors. 

 

‘That’s a point I can cede to you on the orphanage business,’ Snape carefully approved, because even if the boy just admitted it, it still was all hurtful to him. That was easy to guess considering the student’s body language. ‘Nevertheless, I may assume you have plenty of time to think about it, as well as I, and you have your OWLs which need prior attention.’ He then said to leave William some room to think on his own about the Headmaster proposal and to breathe too. 

‘Before you even leave, may I offer you another argument?’ Dumbledore asked softly, while both of his co-speakers still were looking at each other now that the Eaglet dared to face his Potions professor. ‘To complete the whole image about the current situation, as I said earlier: Death Eaters should hide away from society and by this not contact you; plus, I’d say that being William’s guardian would complete your case as a mere young and respectable man, since the trial had passed but some keep being suspicious. This would guarantee your word and fulfill your cover on a short-term. Yes, I know you are going to point me out a previous meeting where I told you I was afraid about someone finding out… this…’ here he trailed off, his gaze out of focus for a couple of seconds. ‘But I am certain that he would come back only when Harry is on age to come here.’ he finished his point with all his assurance and self-confidence. 

 

Snape was going to give a ‘no’ or whatever to this before he closed his mouth halfway and thought deeply about this idea. Indeed, Dumbledore was clever, logical, knew too perfectly Voldemort to the point the young man thought that knowledge was mad and frightful. 

‘For once, something seems logical here,’ William muttered all of a sudden. This comment attracted the adults’ attention and both of them silently asked for clarification. ‘Well, I don’t know much about what happened in October, but if I were - er, him, I’d wait Harry Potter reappears as no one knows where he currently is and if I don’t want to attract attention on myself by searching under every rock of Great-Britain, I just have to wait he comes at school.’

‘Why, well, that’s true,’ Snape admitted. ‘Is it really necessary to do this in order to succeed until it is time?’ he then asked to Dumbledore, half of the meaning under this question escaping William’s understanding. 

‘I don’t find any other strong action to do so.’ the Headmaster replied. ‘And if ever they would know, explain them that was the best you could do not to be suspectful and a way to trick me as well.’ he concluded with a smile. 

 

That was why Snape feared his superior in some ways: his plans and manipulations just gave him innocent pleasures - and that was not in the order of things, right.


	10. OWLs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not yet beta'd.   
> In addition, I'm out from inspiration. I write very few. I don't know how I'll deal the following weeks. I also have to look for a(nother) job and it stresses me out.   
> Enjoy this chapter anyway :)

The end of holidays went as if William had reached a parallel universe as he felt so uprooted from reality since that meeting. This upset him because that disturbed his revisions and he almost greeted the end of term courses with relief, as he certainly would come back on tracks. His emotions were at high level, drowning him from head to toe, barely could he realize he was breathing. He did not know what hurt him the most in everything he had to listen and witness during the holidays that pain only let a strange feeling in him. He felt so bad yet he could not name it. 

 

But soon, too soon, had he revised his judgement about resuming class: it was necessarily linked with bullying. However, this time he could not remember what just had occurred to him and soon enough, professor Snape had to fetch him before he fell once more… 

‘What happened?’ Snape asked in a sour voice, and yet William could hear ‘again’ at the end of his question, as he usually did. An ugly cut was bleeding from his lower lip, he surely had some bruises here and there, hidden by his clothes as he felt his right side hurting him as Hell, still the teenager showed no specific humour.

 

He merely answered in a mumble: ‘I fell because I was reading while I was going down the stairs.’ which was close to truth as he had a book in one hand. 

Of course the Potions Master did not trust him, he was far from idiot and naive and knew perfectly well what those bruises came from as he had had some similar inflicted during his youth. He barely restrained a sigh and held his nose bridge with his fingers, all tired of the boy’s attitude even though he could not reproach him so as he exactly did the same at his age. But still… 

 

Honestly, the Eaglet could only answer his professor this way as he had no proper memory of the incident. His mind was blank about it and he was more stressed because of that than being bullied - the fact was that he was so used to it he even did not react against it anymore. Therefore he never tried to respond back to his bullies like before, like several weeks earlier. 

On his side, the adult was wondering if he was ready to ensure the responsibilities suggested by Dumbledore which would change his dealing with Melbourne’s bullying affair. If he ever became his tutor, how would he react? Would his attitude as professor change? How would he react as proper tutor, taking aside his professor role? 

Hurting, that was all; bloody hurting, as he already was upset as if a storm had taken his brain to smash it upside down. Well, when did he feel that bound to the boy? When did he lower his guard? 

Did he even take distance from the boy, then? A spiral of questions was invading his mind and he felt all dizzy and on the verge to faint as it was so painful and stiflingly - dangerous. 

 

‘Hospital Wing. Now.’ he finally commanded when he got rid off his thoughts and emotions as he had built strong mental walls in his mind. To be sure the teenager would obey him, he imposed him his presence and William sheepishly followed the Potions Master to Mrs Pomfrey’s aisle. That passivity and immediate obedience worried a bit the adult who was more used to the boy’s slight rebel attitude. Where did it disappear? 

 

Oh, well, he was mistaking at some point. Since the term had resumed, he had found Melbourne all distracted, differently as usual, merely reacting to the world around him. The meeting had overwhelmed him, the young man immediately concluded. So, that also took some of his nerves away. 

Just before they came in properly, Snape stopped and stopped William as well, by the while he put a hand on his arm to do so. 

 

‘Don’t give up, just don’t,’ he muttered and as the teenager rose an eyebrow he continued ‘otherwise you die drowned in your own miserable despair.’ His sour remark seemed to cheer up the boy who nodded and even smiled at bit to it. Oh, yes, Snape was unable to either upset him or scare him to his wits like the other dunderheads - sigh. 

‘I’ll try my best’ was the Eaglet’s brief answer before he opened the infirmary’s doors. As soon as the matron had the boy in her sight field, she ran towards him and wanted from him the reasons why he was so poor in health because she surely had to refer it to the staff. Again. Why Snape did not say it? Again. William quickly pouted and became as inaccessible as the Great Wall of China. Trying to help and solve his problems always had been difficult to take at stake due to his attitude and rejection of help. 

 

Later on, William was in the security of his own dorm, in bed, out of sight thanks to his curtains and he was crying against his pillow. 

He started to doodle a portrait of Queen Victoria at around two in the morning, his crying strained all of his strength and he had slept, barely and badly still he had slept. All shaken due to a nightmare, he had lit his bed with the top of his wand and now was drawing the long gone wife who ruled the quarter of the world at her time. He knew her well: she was small, petite one would had said old-fashionedly, round shaped, not that much beautiful. Still, she was all human, displaying her own aura as the years went by. William was his opposite: tall despite his eating habits and beautiful - not handsome but beautiful. Some would have mistaken him for a girl if they did not pay any peculiar attention. Nonetheless, any wizard did so but Muggle… He remembered a few of those embarrassing moments when classmates mocked him because of his girl-like silhouette. Puberty also seemed to stay at bay as he had not yet any hair growing, such as his Adam apple - and his voice… A knock soon blocked his throat and his hands shook slightly. He even started to cry again. His pencil made a wrong movement and despite erasing the mistake, he threw all of this away. He then thought about home which he missed vividly. What about his old books? Did his family throw them away when it was time to empty the house? He never came back there to save some though. He had had no strength to do so, it would have hurt him - and what about Nightingale? Another yulp, another cry, another shudder and new flows of tears. How miserable he was.

 

Next day, the teenager went to the Great Hall, his eyes red and swollen for having cried almost all night. He felt all sore, his muscles and back were hurting. He avoided Elizabeth and Virginia worries, the professors inquisitive looks and drowned his attention in his cup of tea, not able to tidy his thoughts and say any word.

 

‘Why can’t you continue teaching him private lessons,’ Dumbledore muttered as discreetly as possible. 

‘My reports should have given you some clue.’ The Raven replied in a snap, still in a murmur. ‘Well, my Slytherins had become suspicious,’ he then added, rolling his eyes while the Headmaster only shot him a curious look to his first bit of answer. ‘Better of stopping those for a couple and coming back on tracks with a better cover… I don’t want him in that state every single day.’ he finished all angry. 

‘So, you are telling me you suspect one or several of your charges as the authors of last night’s incident,’ Dumbledore then whispered. 

‘Lacking evidence but considering the situation, I may not be that much mistaken.’ Snape pointed out, his hand automatically stirred his cup of tea. He next drank a bit of it while watching the boy who barely drank his own. ‘Still, I cannot help him like this for a long term. Private lessons cannot solve anything. Though they distract him a bit every week but nothing deeper is made for him to change.’ he trailed off. 

Something irritated him much and the young man came out of the Great Hall, his cup of tea half full and his breakfast intact. 

 

*

 

William had some difficulties staying awake all day, even if his courses changed from one another and interested him. Exhausted as he was, physically as much as emotionally, he fought back his desire to keep his eyes open, which became more and more hard to fulfill. Shame was near as he knew his professors were watching him closely. 

 

‘Alas for you, the Draught of Living-dead is too much complicated to brew and for you to accidently smell it to have its effects but - it is likely no necessary to Mr Melbourne.’ Snape commented mockingly, liking the idea to compare some potions to the dunderheads in front of him, either to taunt them or criticize them. Nonetheless, the teenager did not react from lack of energy. He merely glanced at the Raven for a couple of seconds before losing back his gaze somewhere unknown to anyone. The Potions professor internally sighed at this lack of reaction - clearly, what was going on with this brat? Yet, he could figure out easily that whatever the teenager said or unsaid only showed his inability to accept Dumbledore’s solution to his problems, such as he, Snape, still - oh, how could he complain of while adults made their possible to sort him out of his current situation? 

 

The Head of Slytherins gave them instructions to start the course properly, then he crossed the room to watch their cauldrons. 

An unusual move attracted his attention, lack of subtlety but - interesting so far. What was his name? A hufflepuff boy sometimes peered at Melbourne’s direction. Thomas something - he could not remember every student’s last names. What was it? Still, Melbourne paid no attention to the other’s glimpse, so that he stopped, mostly because of the Dungeon’s Bat gazing dead at him. A blush on his cheeks, he lowered his gaze and came back on making his potion. The least he could manage so far as - for Merlin’s Sake, he had to keep high levels of concentration with manipulating dangerous products. Another inside sigh. 

Next, the adult went to Melbourne’s side and watched him carefully. The boy was doing just fine, yet it was only the beginning of the process, and if he had enough brains, that only could work for the moment, Snape thought. Nevertheless, the white face, the darkish purple shadows and the reddish eyes worried him. 

 

‘I need you here after the class ends,’ he whispered in a ‘don’t-try-otherwise’ tone. The Eaglet could only manage a nod. Then, the adult moved to put some pressure on Virginia, and the others but he regularly had a look back at Melbourne in case his exhaustion would endanger everyone here once more. …………..

However, he did good from beginning to e… No, not to end, unfortunately because when it was time to stir some potion in the vial to be examined, a shattered sound reverberated as one of them smashed against the ground. Sudden silence, everybody quickly gazed at the source of the incident. Melbourne stayed motionless, his face blank. Snape watched him. He watched him back. Nothing displayed on his face. 

 

In normal time, the Potions master would have slickely said ‘ten point from [House]’ or ‘detention, you moron’ but here, here, he was so destabilized by the brat he also remained motionless for a blimey couple of minutes. The bell rang somewhere outside the classroom, the other students did not wait his reaction as usual because they were most in a hurry to escape him, put their vials on his desk and fleed. They wanted to avoid his wrath - how wise it was from them. 

 

Still, when Snape came closer to Melbourne, his gaze fell upon the vial - the vial? 

‘I didn’t hear you saying the Repairing Charm,’ was the only - stupid- remark he made, and he internally flagelled at himself. 

Then, a wheel of understanding fitted, but the adult only frowned at this. 

‘Since when are you capable of wordless spells?’ he demanded - not asked, demanded by his tone of voice. 

Melbourne shivered slightly, unable to watch him straight in the eyes. 

‘Last year,’ he croaked. 

 

Indeed, the Potions master knew about his top marks in Charms, nevertheless, he did not put it on the sole abilities of the boy. He certainly thought that Flitwick favored him somehow, as every professor favored some students above others despite the necessity of being neutral. That was pure nonsense according to Snape, because professors merely were human beings. So, when he had attended the last professors training at the Ministry, he had smirked throughout the whole meeting hearing this whole nonsensical view about teaching. 

 

Ok, this dialogue he intended to have with the brat had not started like he initially wanted at first hand. He sighed while he grasped his nose bridge and closed his eyes. 

‘What I told you last night - not giving up and yet you come here as if you have mourned hundreds of people,’ he managed to say threateningly.

A shot of deep blue eyes told him he touched a sensitive point - how could those dunderheads be so irritable. ‘I didn’t.’ Melbourne replied back fiercely, before he blushed from his attitude and added a sheepish ‘sir.’ 

‘Still, you act as if,’ the Raven pointed out dryly. ‘I don’t know if you ever were aware of the fact that life isn’t fair.’ he continued. ‘And you behave like the perfect victim of this.’ 

 

Yet, he could understand the boy all torn by life unfairness. Luckily (or not), he, Snape, had the support from a few members of Slytherins while he was bullied by the Marauders on a daily basis; whereas William was desperately alone, though those Elizabeth and Virginia were quite close to him - well, it was not exactly true since the potions incident during last term. And that Thomas something from Hufflepuff … But the Eaglet had ignored him through his temptative non verbal communication. They surely had “met” recently. In addition, as some Huffies had jinxed Melbourne as well, his behaviour would have been qualified as normal to the professor’s point of view. 

 

‘I’m not acting like a vict -’ but soon, the teenager stopped halfway. Snape rose an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. The boy then focused on his shoes, ill-at-ease. 

‘It’s like you wandered in the castle with ‘hex me’ on your forehead.’

 

Oh - that - he touched another sensitive point as the boy’s gaze was full of hurt feelings. However Snape did not care he hurt him for truth sake. He needed to acknowledge this as far as possible. This boy surely wandered as entirely skinned off, everything occurring to him hurt him deep down to an utmost level - unbearable even. He clearly needed to strengthen his mind to endure life or else he would commit suicide. 

 

‘Even though it’s unconscious, it’s likely how you behave.’ Snape replied back, his eyes as hard as stones. ‘And whenever you feel hurt by people, don’t let them know this, just pretend. People always pretend, they are great hypocrites.’

‘All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players,’ William murmured and nodded, trying to figure out everything his professor told him, putting aside his upset.

A raised eyebrow received this quote from another William. 

‘I do expect from you to understand this, not only on the words themselves but also on what it is translated in behaving.’ the Raven concluded. ‘Go to Charms, or you’ll be late and I would have to justify myself to your Head.’ he ended in a sour tone, clearly annoyed by this prospect. 

 

*

 

Your Majesty, 

It’s been a while - again, since the last letter but I possess no strength to write down anything… Yet, that restlessly turns around inside my head and I can’t clear up my thoughts. I am all lost.

What am I supposed to do? 

 

Then, William dropped his letter and opened back the book he was reading, trying to focus on his studies; the OWLs so soon to ignore them. 

 

Finally, they came all of a sudden and had drown the whole castle in a gloomy silence, as if it had been completely haunted. The atmosphere was so odd somehow, the corridors were full of people whispering, books in their arms, stress on all faces. Indeed, some succeeded in breaking this oddity by making jokes and they generally were well received by others - only a minority pouted and yelled at them to stop this noise. 

 

The students who attended their final exams were also part of that odd atmosphere, still they tried their best not to worry too much by stating their own exams were less life important than the fifth and seventh years. However, the professors had a total different point of view about these sessions and let them all know about it. So that contributed in all the tension reigning in the castle. 

 

During his Charm practice, William longuely wondered if he would cast non verbal spells, as it was not in the programme, but… Yes, he then thought the contrary, not to impress the examiner (that was not a Ravenclaw trait he possessed) but because he had become used to cast some silently so naturally he could not figure them out differently. 

The Eaglet finally stopped thinking twice when he was called and entered the Great Hall with a bunch of other students whose last names started with M or N. The man in front of him looked as old as Dumbledore even though it was hard to precisely define the Headmaster’s age. The examiner was quite short and wrinkles ran all over his face. On the other side, his warm smile and his twinkling eyes somehow reassured the anxious teenager. 

 

‘Good afternoon, Mr Melbourne,’ the wizard said in a soft tone. William answered him, not smiling as he was so stressed out but his voice did not shake a bit. 

How could he be so destabilized by exams and not wince in front of Snape, he suddenly wondered - aghast this assumption never crossed his mind before. He shook his head slightly to concentrate on present day. He had no desire to miss his OWLs on an assumption sake. Statistically, he wordlessly cast more than half of his spells. He surely went out the Great Hall exhausted, still he never complained, loudly or not, because the week would be like that and that was all. 

 

‘Just give up, you won’t brew the Draught of Living-dead but…’ Snape trailed off that night in the library while William was almost sleeping over his Transfiguration. The young man raised an eyebrow, the left one, scrutinizing the teenager exhausted to death. ‘If you continue this way, we’d bury you in two days,’ he snarled in a murmur, his arms behind his back, his robes flouncing around his ankles. ‘I again find you half asleep on a Transfiguration book.’ 

William shot him a blurry gaze, nevertheless his face was blank of any emotion and he lost his eyes anywhere as soon as he had a glimpse at the Raven. 

‘Did you eat?’ If he had so, he would have protested strongly because he hated when the implied accusation was biased for once. Nothing happened and Snape received this with a heavy sigh, closed eyes and fingers holding his nose bridge as if it would contain anger or headache. ‘How stupid an attitude it is,’ the adult then gritted under his teeth. This time, the gaze the dunderhead shot him was alive, like he dared, clearly dared, to wordlessly reply ‘what about you, then?’ Both finally froze for a disturbing couple of minutes in a statu quo both of them dared not to break or feelings, bloody feelings would take over their following gestures and words. 

 

At last, Snape looked away, lost his dark as coil eyes somewhere above the ceiling, released his arms which rested at each side of his body as if he were as exhausted as William. ‘Have a rest, sleep, don’t bother drowning the remains of your brain with too much data.’ 

A Snapish concern, to take as it was for whom it came from. The Eaglet silently gave in and obeyed the Potions professor, recollecting his school stuff and putting them in his bag out of order. While he got up and took his bag, the teenager rose his chin to meet the Head of Slytherin gazing straight at him, that gaze more direct than Dumbledore’s. 

‘Won’t you mind a last Potions private lesson this weekend, same day, same hour as usual?’ 

 

It was then hard to concentrate on exams until D-Day, William torn between anguish and anxiety. He could have blown up the Great Hall as much as his mixed emotions threatened to overwhelm him at any time, at any thought crossing his mind, at any painful memory squeezing his heart like a stress-free ball, at any reminiscence of the old days… Yet, he succeeded not to lose control and wrote and practiced everything he had been asked for to graduate. After the last exam passed, Elizabeth, Virginia and Michael quickly gathered around him to ask him if everything had been okay for him… So weird that the only nonsensical thing that came out of his mouth was a stammering ‘How should I call you? Lilibeth? Like the Queen? Lilie? Like the flower? Lizzie? Like the actress?’ That puzzled his classmates who stared at him, nonetheless trying not to be that obvious, still they were concerned about it. 

 

William had been the same but it had been a while since the last time they heard his disoriented sentences. 

‘Are you okay?’ then asked Elizabeth gently, pressing her hand in a soothing move on his arm. His pupils dilated at once, he shook off his arm to break the contact and ran away, not outside as he would have done if no one was doing exactly the same, but upstairs, not to reach the Ravenclaw tower, but the library to crawl down at the Potions sections. He fell down at one corner formed by the shelves, his bag at his feet and he buried his face under his knees and arms as protection from the world. 

 

*

 

‘I don’t really know where we are going here, I clearly had lost track on how to cope with him.’ 

His upper lip moved from nervousness. Minerva was pouring some Firewhisky, but he opposed his veto by raising a hand at her proposal. She silently accepted it without commenting and raised the glass to Filius otherwise. ‘He’d spent hours in the library crying. Madam Pince had to overcall me to do whatever I could because he hadn’t reacted when she had asked him to fetch his dorm because of curfew…’ 

 

Oh damn it, he grasped something in one of his numerous pockets - that was why he was dressed like he was because he could hide anything he would like - as a Potions Master, better off he did so. 

‘I believed you dropped that silly habit,’ Minerva commented flatly after the slight surprise of him lighting a cigarette in front of witnesses.

‘Everyone has his sins,’ Snape replied in a sweet tone, the one indicating his most threatening temper, as if to close the upcoming useless debate as soon as possible by cutting up the grass under their feet. ‘And he gets over my nerves even though he just breathes next to me.’ Nothing more to clear up his thought, everybody had understood he was referring to Melbourne. 

‘That’s a bit hard to say so,’ Filius replied, his eyebrows frowned from disapproval, but his voice remained calm. 

 

Albus said nothing, though he shared a quick glance at the former Death Eater, as if he wanted to acknowledge the other parts about his statement the other professors were not aware of; asking him to silence them anyway. Snape only rolled his eyes, sighed and smoked quickly, all nervous - almost as nervous as when he had asked Dumbledore forgiveness, mercy and help and then came back to the Dark Lord, hoping he would not blow up his cover as soon as he had become a spy.

 

The fact he was all upset was that Melbourne knew him too well to be able to face him on the “feeding and sleeping enough” business. That was so unnerving. He could be that master of lies and of Legilimency, all of pretence and secrets - this boy had been the witness of a bit of his former life that every granted truth about him immediately fell apart. 

 

‘I’m giving him a last session of private lesson before end of term,’ he finally said mezzo voce when he threw down the remains of his cigarette in the hearth. ‘Only to check what’s wrong with Elizabeth’s name…’ 

 

He went away after those mysterious words because no one was aware of William’s whereabouts between the time he had finished his OWLs and the moment Madam Pince had fetched Flitwick to come over. Unfortunately, the Raven had - accidentally - overheard the boy’s babbling nonsense - still, it was not, wasn’t it. Lilie - Lily - he sighed and as soon as he fetched his private apartments, he went out through the access to his private garden where he had his own collection of plants for his potions. Taking care of plants, flowers, trees and bushes would be relaxing if he ever knew the plain sense of this word, but he tried his best when he needed it. Apart from this time, he only watched around him whenever his thoughts drove his movements, lit another cigarette and let the smoke evaporate heavily high in the dark blue sky. Stars sometimes winked at him, some clouds slowly went by, some bird sang, more or less longingly, often alone or chatting with others. Nevertheless, Snape did not care at all about what nature told him that night. He was exhausted, quite like when he had just finished a mission, and his mind went restlessly over and over on the problem - according to Dumbledore, that was a solution. 

 

Still, summing it up, it was about raising a teenager. As if teaching those dunderheads all year was far from enough, he bitterly thought. He crashed his cigarette on the ground with precise movements not to burn anything. His nerves were going to kill him, sooner or later. Master of Legilimency AND of Occlumency. People were too simpleton thinking that Occlumency was the best solution ever to deal (crash down) one’s feelings. Indeed that discipline of the mind helped a lot in reaching one’s aim but the person mastering it had to discipline one’s mind on one’s own at the same time. It was with time and dedication that one can succeed in feeling but not depending on the feelings’ effects. Indeed, again, some had become crazy or sociopaths when they had reached their own limits, the ones dealing with their humanity by going too far. 

Snape was brilliant, still he was learning and Melbourne was one of the many challenges his practice of Occlumency had to endure. 

 

His nerves made him shake slightly, continuously. Yet he thought that Melbourne, like other students, needed to go away the place he was living in at summertime. The Raven could not think otherwise, his own miserable existence still hurting as hell. Dumbledore was caring, better off now than never, and dealing with Melbourne was an emergency case not to ignore. You never could tell how things could turn up with such a traumatic past and present. If the headmaster had not received him, Snape surely would have committed suicide. His own thoughts had not calmed down, they would never, they went parasitic in his mind, disturbing the normal process of thinking. He lit another cigarette and as he inhaled once, he suddenly coughed. It had been a while he had not smoked that much in a couple of minutes - less than a hour, he realized as he did not really know how much time had come by now. The cough went away and he could smoke with no second thoughts. Then, he wondered if the boy would accept. Legally speaking, with an internal investigation from the Ministry, Melbourne had nothing to say. In addition, with his influence, Dumbledore would interrupt the normal procedure of that kind, suggesting to the employees on charge of this dossier to give to Severus all rights of tutoring rather than to strangers. Knowing him quite well, Snape knew that would be easy to do so, and giving them some of the arguments the Headmaster had told him, that would work. By so, he never worried about the legal part of Dumbledore’s plan; mostly did he on a moral basis. Whatever he could think, feel, argue, no one was listening to him. Did he have that right anyway? He had come months ago pleading for mercy. Living was too expensive a cost, so he only had to shut up as a thank you. Dumbledore seemed to be the perfect man to deal with how the Potions master had to reach redemption - and if that was about raising that idiot of … 

Melbourne? 

William? 

How should he call him outside of school?

He grumbled from pain, taking his head with both hands, his cigarette still consuming.

 

*

 

‘I didn’t know lilies…’ he trailed off before shutting it up at once when he met Snape’s gaze. Both of them were at the greenhouses, Sprout was happy to help for once because no one had a clue about what Snape was teaching to Melbourne during his private lessons. 

‘Take notes’, the Potions master commanded. ‘It seems necessary to cover your holes on that matter.’ 

 

William obeyed immediately, fetched his notebook and pen, under a surprised Sprout and a unreadable Snape - well, if he took notes quicker than on a proper parchment and quill, why not. ‘Don’t you like animals, cats more specifically?’ the Raven then asked. 

 

The Eaglet looked at him curiously, wondering if it was a trap, surely it was knowing who was addressing him. ‘Yeah,’ he muttered, cleared his throat and answered again, more politely; ‘yes, sir.’ 

‘Were some lilies at your garden?’ Snape remembered perfectly what young eleven-year-old Melbourne had told him when himself was still a student. 

He remembered that the Melbournes lived at Reading, a city in Berkshire, but his parents had a nice, cosy cottage with a huge savage garden where cats wandered through all year. William nodded. 

This exasperated the man, who sighed and snarled: ‘You idiot. Lilies are toxic to cats! Write down: Lilium species, such as Lilium longiflorum and Hemerocallis, create damage to the renal tubular epithelium, so they cause acute renal failure. Remember this. If you want to poison animals, some potions are useful to obtain the result expected, so that lilies are important in brewing those potential lethal potions.’

 

While William wrote all of this down, his face displayed his slight horror to the probability some of the cats he had met in his youth would have died miserably because of some lilies at the edge of their garden. ‘And stop this melodrama, what’s done is done. If you want to be an efficient potion brewer, you need to keep all emotion at bay. You only keep in mind the very specific values potions you’re making. There’s no room to cry.’

 

Pomona said nothing about this harsh tone of his, conscious that behind this rudeness was the requirement due to his field of knowledge. We could not babble in potion making. Next, Snape gave a long list of potions where lilies were used and his student wrote them carefully. 

‘Is that why in the Victorian language of flowers lilies are associated to grief and mourning and those are present during funerals?’ William dared to ask in a shy voice, not looking at his professor. 

It took the young man a couple of seconds to keep control of himself before he answered in a flat tone ‘Consider the people from the nineteenth century quite pragmatic in their interpretation of the mundane.’ 

 

Any more comment was said and they both continued to fill the blanks the younger had about lilies. At times, Sprout went with her own comments - as Herbology knowledge was capital to succeed in potions as well. 

When it was over, William felt a uneasy emptiness right at his stomach. That was the end of too much things at the same time: school, exams, his former life. 

Too much to have a stable emotion level.


	11. Start Anew (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not yet beta'd.

The end of year was near, the summer wind had started to breeze over Scotland's highlands, nature was as marvellous as ever at that time of the year. Students were enjoying their breaks outside, in the park, some reckless even had baths in the lake and were sometimes meeting the Giant Squid.

The seventh years ended their NEWTs a week later than the fifth years and all of the pupils cheered and spent most of their time with their friends before a final travel by the Hogwarts Express, some would not come back anymore at the castle.

 

William hated goodbyes, they made him sulkier than usual. Even if he never succeeded in showing his sort of friendship to anyone close to him, he did not like the way people proceeded to enjoy their last bits of time together. Thus, he spent his newly free-time in the library as if he had lots of homework to do. Yet, he had dropped his school books and was reading one dedicated to Queen Victoria he had bought second-handly the previous summer. The library was calmer than during the whole past ten months, it was rare students spent their time in here, so that Madam Pince had looked the Eaglet suspiciously when he had entered. He had ignored this, had come to the Potions section and sat at his usual place. By now, he was enjoying his reading about the troubled times of the Chartist Movement.

'I must not be surprised to see a Ravenclaw at the library still… it's a bit odd you're locked in here while normal people are enjoying themselves outside.' a sweet tone rang at his ears. William stopped at once, tried to remain as neutral as possible before he gazed at Snape standing next to his table. Unfortunately, the teenager's eyes were shining as if to say 'what about you, stuck in the Dungeons?' Nonetheless, that was far impolite and he only escaped by coming back to the page he was reading, only out focusing the words without making sense from them.

'It's too noisy outside,' he finally answered as he felt the professor close attention over him. A snort received this reply - well, if he was ridiculous, he did not care at all. He had no desire to vent on his thoughts to the Raven. In addition, he had packed his clothes and school stuff in his luggage, only anxiously waiting to leave. No one yet came to him to tell him which procedure had been decided for the upcoming summer holidays - and apart from the possibility to live with Snape, wich was unnerving on its own, he was scared to go back at that gloomy orphanage, as he had been scared about for three years. Everybody liked holidays, it seemed so, but he not. He would have given anything to stay at Hogwarts - his bullies at bay, it would have been more pleasurable than meeting his Muggle bullies once more. It never ended for him.

'You act as if… It's like you have written on your forehead 'Hex me!''. Or punch me, for the non magical community. That reminiscence hurt as Hell, still it was true.

 

William looked again at Snape. The professor never wandered in the castle to find him with no motive so…

'The headmaster wants you at his study at any minute now.' he finally said, his face was unreadable - wait, that twist at the corner of his lips. He was nervous. That was it.

 

Alas, not yet.

'The papers aren't totally made. The procedure might have taken a longer time, but they try their best to fulfill all of this as quickly as the emergency demands them so.' Dumbledore told William seriously, still displaying as much possible his reassuring tone.

Nonetheless, in any case, the Eaglet would have felt the same anxiety spreading slowly in all his limbs, until he became numb and stared at the old wizard blankly. 'That says you first have to remain at the orphanage until professor Snape and you will be called at the Ministry to sign when the papers will be ready.'

 

Dumbledore really looked concerned by this negative announcement, or he was a great comedian.

'Well, I don't keep you locked in, the feast is going to start and none of us would miss it.' The Headmaster concluded as neither William nor Snape replied anything. What could they say anyway?

While going downstairs to the Great Hall, the Eaglet suddenly remembered some French text… He tried to remember it strongly to push away his numbness and anxiety. It was a short story about one man condemned to death penalty in France, written by Victor Hugo. If things were right, the well-known author had written it to protest against death penalty. William just remembered the final steps of that man in that shaking short story while he was stepping downstairs.

 

'Le dernier jour d'un condamné!' he finally burst out, stopping dead right now, and Snape bumped at him as he did not expect this at all.

'Wh- Watch out, Melbourne,' he snarled. Then, he watched closely to the boy who seemingly had crossed a ghost way as he remained as pale as ever. 'What's wrong?' he finally whispered.

'N - Nothing, sir,' the boy stammered, looking away, and he continued going downstairs.

'You're really bad at lying, Melbourne,' Snape followed him and took him by the arm to slow him down. 'If there is a thing I despise from stubborn brats who could die from uncareness is their constant lying.'

 

William shot him a glance, a deja-vu from earlier when he had expressed through those sky-blue orbs 'and what about you, then?'. 'Well, note that if you want to live at least with no remorse and fear, better if you change your behaviour as soon as possible or…'

'Ah, Severus, you're coming at last,' cut short a stern voice.

William could not suppress a sigh. The Raven turned round to face Minerva who was coming down too, from her study and had found them on the same level. He finally gave up the teenager who decided to run away.

'Don't run in the corridors!' Mcgonagall exclaimed, tired to repeat herself.

'Give up on that,' the Potions Master commented dryly. 'I did.' he added while his colleague shot him a glance, her lips thinned to white.

'I would worry about Mr Melbourne but I would worry more about you because you never give up when it's about school rules.' she said.

 

William did not enjoy the end of year feast. He was deep in his thoughts, barely exchanged with Elizabeth and Virginia who tried several times during dinner to talk to him, such as promising to keep in touch the next couple of months. However, their patience had limits and they reluctantly but necessarily gave up when dessert popped up at last. Before, they had said nothing but Virginia told him what she deeply thought, him not trying to make any effort, her regretting the distance since the potion incident which was a bit unfair, still… William never improved.

The teenager had eaten quite nothing, and those accusative words added to Dumbledore's helped to fix his guilt to his anxiety. He only looked at tarts, pudding, cakes, his plate as empty as his stomach. He wished it ended soon so that he would avoid everybody until next day, in his four-poster.

 

When the remains of dinner had vanished as well and the Great Hall full of noises and chatter, while students got up by groups to gather at the entrance to join their Common Rooms, the Eaglet shot a glance at the staff table. Quite all of them saw him doing so. Flitwick, Sprout and Hagrid smiled back at him.

Dumbledore was still in deep conversation with McGonagall.

Oh, she had been deceived by the teenager through the year as the previous ones. The Head of Gryffindors loved her topic, she was a great specialist witch, dedicated to the point she was an Animagus and spent some time abroad to lecture with other passionate folks like her. At first, she believed William was pretty good - he was, somehow, he succeeded quite quickly transforming whatever she demanded them to transform. Still, she soon understood something missing in his results to be perfect under her scrutiny: William had not realised Transfiguration was as necessary as other topics to be taught. This mildly interest let him skilled but not brilliant. This lack of belief she would have let him miss one of the essential points of Transfiguration.

They had tried to discuss it but the Eaglet had shown an extreme stubbornness, surely due to his Muggle origins: he had even told her he did not see the point repairing objects was useful as what was broken was broken and that was all.

 

Coming back to present, William then got sight of Snape. The professor stopped pretending to look vaguely to gaze back at the teenager that made him to step and turn back to avoid him. William exited in a hurry, climbed the stairs as fastly as he could and reach his dorm and bed with no single pause.

He stayed awake almost all night.

 

Four in the morning was too early to be decent, Snape thought dryly, before he got up and poured some coffee in a cup and came outside in his garden to wake up at once thanks to the cool wind.

This year had been particular. A few months earlier, he was a Death Eater, a follower of a psychopath who ruled over Great Britain. Then, he had the last strike to help him to think that he had made mistakes, that he had been wrong thinking enrolling the Death Eaters, he would be better and recognized by joining them: Lily was threatened, more than she and Potter had been until then. However, he had lost her - oh, that had made any peculiar change in his life as their ways had broken apart long ago, but knowing she was dead and he alive was unnerving - and unfair. She had long decided to fight for the better, to be in the "right side"; he not - until very recently, one year ago. She had died, he was scandalously alive. If he ever was alive, as he barely survived from day to day, wondering if there were any human part in him after all. He had sold his soul twice, he had been a child deprived of too much essential things to grow up at least a bit better than he actually had done. He had been rejected all along and thought that those guys in Slytherin would have helped him being recognized as he was, nonetheless he had been wrong on the prospect… Bitter, he had become bitter.

Now, he was bound to another man, the enemy of his Master, to fight against him. Even though it would be long, he had to wait, and what better waiting than to teach in a school? Perfect position to protect Harry Potter, well yes, true, but - He sighed.

He lit a cigarette and waited, waited, waited.

 

A quarter to eleven, all the students were at Hogsmeade platform, awaiting to embark in the train. Loud chatters reverberated through the whole tiny place.

Unexpectedly, William met Bill who was bading goodbyes to his classmates. Well, true that his dark red hair helped somehow to find him among a crowd like this. Nonetheless, the Eaglet wondered if it would be normal or too odd to say anything to the younger. Indeed this group of Gryffindors had never harassed him but they surely had heard anything about him in their common room and so had a certain opinion of him. That would have been really weird…

Oh, damn it, William thought. 'Hi, Bill.' he said as cool as he could manage at this point.

The boy turned back to face him, a broad smile on his face clearly happy to see him. 'Hullo, William, how do you do? Hadn't seen you much lately - well, I reckon, with the exams and all…' he trailed off, passing a hand in his hair. 'How were OWLs?' he then asked.

William only shrugged at this. 'I guess I'd see when the results come.'

 

Then, Bill gave him his address for them to keep in touch. William had not dared to give his as he would move anyway and did not want to let the others behind them reading over his shoulder words such as 'orphanage', others about a location in a Muggle area. That hurt him deep as he was proud to be Muggleborn but those last months had been rude to him so that he finally had become afraid of the others and considered that there would not be a better time for people like him, even though the Dark Lord had fallen - his parents had rightly worried about his safety and he had acted like a perfect brat. While he climbed in the train, he sighed heavily at that sudden thought.

 

In his compartment, William had the surprise to meet Thomas. Both of them never had exchanged for a while, to William's blame because he had finally thought he had been upsetting after the other teenager had helped him out recollecting his thoughts. And William had just avoided him… Another brick of guilt dropped in his gut. The Eaglet wondered why now and why all at the same time, though he had to compose with it. He tried to stay connected to present and had a proper look at the other teenage boy.

Yes, the Hufflepuff did not look pissed off. He even smiled at William when he came in the compartment and had asked shyly if he could sit in there. They first spent their travel back to London in an awkward silence, glancing from time to time at each other. They really both felt embarrassed, to the point William thought that had been a bad idea to sit with him after all. Next, other students came in, as they recognized Thomas from the windowpane and they noisily sat down as well. Fortunately, the Eaglet had sat close to the outside window but felt all oppressed anyway. The uneasiness quickly faded away as Thomas's friends started to chat with him.

The Eaglet put his forehead against the cool window and watched the landscapes blurring due to the train speed and thought that seeing these was like watching some paintings. Then, he remembered the last words Snape had told him before the feast. Indeed, the boy had thought that piece of advice was unfair from the one telling it, still he reckoned he also had been unfair judging him like he did through his gazes. In addition, the Potions Master was right - he very often was right, to William's exasperation.

' … No, that's why they all are grumpy and don't try to meddle with the others - How could they? They've been rejected by their families.'

'How could they look open and friendly if those Muggles act like prats?'

William came back to present when his ears had heard those words and he looked straight at the others who were deep in a debate.

'Oi, William, glad you're back from your daydreaming,' a Hufflepuff he could not recall having seen at all. 'We were wondering how your own family reacted when they knew you were a wizard.'

This simple - but misplaced - curiosity sounded weird, at least. William was not sure still he thought that something gross would come out of it if he ever told anything, and he believed that because of the other's gaze and smirk on his face.

'My parents… Were happy with that.' he finally replied as everyone encouraged him to answer and it would be misinterpreted if he ever tried to escape this compartment.

'Come on, I don't believe it a word,' Thomas surprisingly told him - because he could not believe he would say that. Okay, he did not know that Hufflepuff much but he had - he had… Yes, that was horrible thinking nice about someone because they once helped you while people did not care in general.

William shot him a disbelieving gaze, quite shocked. 'Of course it's true,' he spat back. 'My parents always had loved me, wizard or not!'

'But reckon that's weird because every Muggleborn guy we've met say otherwise. Their families rejected them. Muggles are afraid of wizards and witches. Remember Binn's courses…'

William could not control it but he snorted at the mention of those soporific lessons: 'I am deeply sorry you still hadn't understood that w- Muggles had evolved since the Middle-Ages. The Ministry mostly keep our existence secret because Muggles would use us as tools for their wars but not anymore due to religious ideologies. There are more and more atheists and agnostics in the western world and…'

'Whatever the reasons are, Muggle only can despise their wizard siblings, you've just drowned your own argument.' Thomas pointed him out.

 

Anger shot at once in his mind. William clenched his fists, which were trembling. 'My parents loved me,' he repeated even though he knew deep down they would not believe it.

Sick of it, he took his luggage, almost knocked off some of them in the while, went out the compartment and decided to spend the remain of his travel close to a door. His mood was gloomy, gloomier as the train came closer to London.

 

No one cheered him when he arrived at the orphanage, after a long time spent in the bus to reach the location. London was hot and he felt as if all cool air had vanished and a constant oppression against his ribcage did not help to breathe normally. As far as he had reached the dark and cooller hall, William suddenly realized that he was strongly sweating from his temples and back, his t-shirt would likely not separate from his skin when he would have a shower.

No one asked him if his year at school went well. No one worried if his travel had been OK. Because no one had been waiting for him at King's Cross at all - like every year. Now, he felt as angry at all of them as to Dumbledore and Snape - well they were for nothing, still he was angry at his professors as he had to come back to that damn place first.

At some point, he had the regret to come back at evening. William would have escaped as soon as possible at the London Library for the whole day otherwise, to pretend he had not come back first at that sinister place. Libraries, as being merely surrounded by stacks of books, had always been his refuge. Unfortunately he had to wait a bloody whole night before then; and the nights were horrid in there.

It first started with the water while having his shower ran low to stop. He sighed, muttered imaginary insults, half Muggle half wizard (stupid newts was the softest), and waited as he was covered with soap from head to toe. They got rid of his patience and stopped this silly game, clearly annoyed he did not scream either threats or insults because the more he did so, the more they enjoyed it. That was the vicious circle of bullying, which sometimes broke when the bullied did not react - but only sometimes.

The second of them was when he came out of the shower, his clothes had vanished. He rolled his eyes and made his way to his dorm with the towel around his hips. Indeed, one of the supervisors yelled at him but he did not listen to him. There he could dress and when he raised his head, he saw them, closing and narrowing the circle they had formed not to let him escape. That was their welcome home service.

When William finally reached his bed to sleep, or trying to sleep, he had a black eye and his lower lip had bled a bit, his ribs pained him and his right wrist was sore. He had tried to defend himself but seven to one was so unbalanced he could not have done anything better about the result.

 

Next day, he woke up early to have a calm breakfast before all of them emerged from their fast sleeping. How could they sleep peacefully, he wondered. His usual green tea smoking up to his nostrils, he had not seen one of the supervisors coming close to him.

'Well, I see you had fallen again?' he sneered. No one cared about him so William ignored his words, his eyes just caught with what he was holding in his hand. 'Letter for you,' he only added and turned his heels after he had dropped it next to the teenager's sore wrist. The green lettering attracted his attention, while it was written on a Muggle envelop: Dumbledore had made his best not to attract much attention. William tore it open to read the letter:

 

Dear William,

I hope your first night here was comfortable enough after a long travel. I am again sorry about the upcoming delay due to administrative longness. Still, I have heard things were going well and that you will only wait a couple of days. The Ministry will send you a proper invitation to come at once, alongside with Professor Snape.

Behave well and take care of yourself.

Best wishes,

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

 

Even though he did not like the idea to be stuck here for a more 'couple of days', William felt a bit less gloomy for those quite positive news - and Dumbledore seemingly really cared about him. Next thing to do: packing some stuff in his bag and fleeing to the library, away from those blocks.

Dumbledore had been right in his letter: the Ministry contacted William exactly three days later the Headmaster's. Though their quickness announced a whole freaking week to wait the meeting. The teenager cursed the entire service down to their tenth generation because they could not understand how nightmarish this Hell on Earth was and they deeply needed to know. Then, he immediately thought that he would live with Snape and his anger soon vanished to let enough room for his anxiety.

Long after, he had to admit that the service was certainly overworked for such a delay. William gritted his teeth and prayed his bullies stopped knocking him like a punching ball. Long ago and unrealistic was the day he had punched a heavier guy on the nose. Here, he certainly made no difference, as far as he tried to protect his face, his ribs were targeted and vice versa. That was a huge and complete mess.

William was scanning books dealing with self-defence and martial arts, wondering if it ever was wise, useful and unnecessary for a training and supervising… Still, he continued reading all afternoon.

Indeed, his temptative tactics failed miserably. As soon as he tried to reproduce the keys to defend himself, they sneered at him, laughed at him and succeeded in punching him wherever they desired anyway.

 

Before going to his London apartment, Snape wanted to have a look at Cokeworth. He still did not call it home, even though he had spent most of his time while Death Eating to brew every potion Voldemort had demanded him so. Since the Dark Lord had fallen, the young man wondered if he would come back here someday, to get rid of that shabby house or to try to do something with it to be properly liveable. Well, his apartment rent was at a certain extent - He sighed heavily while he reached the entrance hall, or what pretended to be as tiny as it was. Dust soon got him and he coughed several times before he arranged it with a powerful Scourgify. Then, he switched on the poor living room lamp, or the bulb which composed the lamp on itself. This time, he would not have to replace it. The light hit his eyes fiercely and he blinked for a several couple of seconds, then he adapted and he suddenly felt trapped in that gloomy, stiflingly main room, so small, shabby, full of books, whose remaining space was eaten by a couch, a chair and a fireplace. Even though the young man suffered from no claustrophobia, he had the sensation his ribcage was blocked and his lungs paining from a lack of air. That sort of claustrophobia was nourished by every noise occurring in the house, from the pipes to the wooden floor cracking and the roof hissing by the wind coming by.

 

With all clarity and sincerity, the Potions master had no real motivation to do what he was doing - apart from a mere and useless inspection that nothing had changed since last summer, he had no need to come back here, to that nightmarish place.

Then, he thought he could grab some things - but what? He had already separated safe books and material from the more compromised. Giving up, he therefore controlled if he had cut electricity and water, had done well one year ago, and left.

There was nothing valuable to waste one's time at Spinner's End.

 

London was displaying sparks through the wind, his skin burned until he thought he would end up as ashes. Whatever he was inside or outside the flat, he was knocked by the summer temperature (well, spend ten months in the Highlands and you forget Londonian climate at once). The heatwave and the pollution decided to struggle his breath, as if once was not enough - His shirt was damp at his back; his temples, his neck and his forehead were shining from sweat. Surely he more likely endured warmth badly.

Inside the apartment, less dust welcomed him, less heath welcomed him. Snape sighed heavily, he could breathe normally. He lay against the entrance door, quickly closed behind him, for a while, as if recovering from a painful running, and breathed fastly, his palms against the wood, closing his eyes from time to time.

Away from everything which hurt him.

Away from his childhood.

Away from his adolescence.

But the nightmares were still there.

 

His remarkably, rare, peaceful bubble would break soon, his mind sneered at him. 'Oh, for God's Sake…' he mumbled before he succeeded in reaching his room, grabbed some clothes, locked himself in the bathroom and welcomed the running cold water on his sallow skin.

The shower had exhausted him. Snape felt all tired, physically and emotionally. He managed to crumble in the couch and did not move from here for a long while.

When he had recovered enough strength, the young man got up noisily and fetched his fridge - empty. Indeed.

He would have to make some shopping to welcome that light-headed Melbourne though. The thought itself made him cringe. How could he care about a teenager if he did not properly took care of himself? What had occurred in Dumbledore's mind? Whatever his plan appeared brilliant, to himself, Snape was still skeptical: there were huge details which were quite problematic. Did Dumbledore forget how the young man behave on his own?

He rummaged in his (too?) numerous pockets, found out his cigarettes pack and lit one, while proceeding to the plain window and opened it.

The air outside had cooled down a bit but now, he did not care about the weather. If his thoughts ever flew away with the smoke…

 

Next day, an owl gently knocked at the window. Snape jumped halfway, his heart erratic, his wand in his hand before he remembered at once where he was and insulted himself with accuracy. Then he opened to the bird which landed graciously on the kitchen table, a wooden one, long but not large, like the ones we would find in the bars. It hooted and stretched its paw where a parchment awaited the young man. He took it and the owl flew away as soon as it had been freed. No answer was demanded, then.

Dear Severus, (said Dumbledore's handwriting)

I inform you, at the same time as William, that the Ministry will contact the both of you soon. If necessary, I'd help you on whatever matter preoccupying you. I'll come some day when the boy will be safe at your's.

My best wishes,

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

 

He knew the man quite well, but this gentleness, this kindness made him snort and he pushed away the parchment to make room to his coffee machine to function. He needed a full pot by the way, his night had been as poor as usual.

He avoided buying some food as long as he could, as long as his cigarettes pack contain lasted. Evening went by, the sky had slowly turned from a blinding blue from a variety of warm colours.

 

Why did he hate shopping? Because of the crowd which seemed not to thin whatever time of the day it was. In addition, he had spent ten months surrounded by a thousand students and while he went to the closest grocery, it ran over his nerves in a very few time - he did not care about qualities and prizes. It was crowded too: that was the only informative and displeasing point occurring in his mind right now. Going up to the point, he repeated himself, his face contorted with an inner pain no one would understand. Other clients made their best to avoid him. Thankfully his appearance did not invite them to small chat with him. Even though he had let his wizard robes and did not look anymore like a bat, his appearance was still creepy. He always wore black, despite the heath, his sallow skin, his dark marks, his greasy hair and his dangerous gaze had a tendency to be as efficient as a Repulsive charm.

Apart from the cashier, by Salazar… He gritted his teeth, his patience running short, while she took too much time to bip his food to his taste. He only grumbled in lieu of answers when her tone went high as interrogatives, but he did not listen to her closely. She finally gave up, upset by his ill-mannered attitude and shot him a cold goodbye when he went out that bloody place.

The young man would have to buy some potion supplies as well, to start to brew some remedies to the infirmary. That was part of his job and deal made with Dumbledore. How to remind him to redeem from his previous activities dealing with potions and what fields he had missed for a couple of years because he had been focused on poisons.

But the board would never be cleaned, whatever effort the Headmaster displayed for him to be better - he never would. Death Eater one day, Death Eater forever. That was all.

 

That day came too soon, too slow, they did not know anymore.

The Muggles in charge of William's guardianship had felt the logical necessity that Albus Dumbledore took care of the boy at once and waited for him at the entrance hall of the orphanage.

The teenager first had second thoughts, considering their attitude too lenient and easy for the process. He then had had a close look on their faces: they were mystified, magically, showed no opposition, claimed that was normal that an unknown person dressed weirdly would take the responsibility of that boy to sign official papers for a guardianship they had vaguely heard about but never had known of whom would care about Melbourne at all.

Magic.

The Ministry was ready to be off limits in order to protect their subjects from the Muggles. Well, the whole process was then simplified, nonetheless William disliked it. He clearly remembered when Obliviators had come to his father's family to erase their memories as if it were the previous day. Indeed, that peculiar moment had not been at the origin of the tension in his family relationships; but things had not been better since then.

 

From that day, William had been glad to discover he was a wizard, too used to be different from the others, nevertheless he felt no pride from it and still was reasoning like a perfect Muggle on some aspects of his life. How would he hate magic? It was a gift… He was attending Hogwarts, a sort of Eton and Oxford. Schools his parents would never have afforded him.

Note that his father had worked in a town hall, nothing ambitious at all. His family had told him so: you're not ambitious. You could have worked on higher spheres, studied in great schools but - but he had preferred a calm work where he estimated he could help people with changing their ID cards and use his few skills when numerization had started to come up in his work.

His mother had been a babysitter. They had been proud of their son - always. Even when the days were tough and he was particularly difficult.

William could not admit he would hate magic - if so, he would disappoint his parents, even though they were dead. He swallowed and closed his eyes when he came down the stairs to join his Headmaster at the entrance hall, only conscious of his constant shivering at the end of his walk. It could not relate with temperature - July was hot and going on a walk in London was stifling. It was the same inside. A bit more and he would believe he was boiling in a cauldron like ingredients.

The teenager's shirt already sweated against his back.

He was shivering from anxiety and fear. Dumbledore smiled at him and his eyes were twinkling.

'Ready, then?' the old man asked gently.


	12. Start Anew (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not yet beta'd. The rhythm of publication may slow down at some point because I'm writing chapter 14 very slowly.

As soon as William reached the entrance hall, a secretary went toward him and handed him some file and wished him luck - haha, as if luck was enough to face both Ministry of Magic and Snape. Still, his throat knocked and dry the teenager only nodded and had a look at the file: there were official papers stating that he had been moved here back in summer 1978, anyone from his family dropped their responsibilities to keep him home, some copies of his birth certificate and primary school data. The last bit which made him frown and wonder a bit longer about magic extend was his registration to Hogwarts. 

William Albert Melbourne, b. July 29 1966, is attending secondary school at the Private school of Hogwarts, Highlands, Scotland.   
Currently in second education, succeeded in key stage 3, attending key stage 4 (waiting for GCSE results to attend KS5 on September and A Levels in June 1984).  
Would attend A Levels in Edinburgh. 

It went on and on, with detailed curriculum, topics he was supposedly attending.   
The teenager glanced at his Headmaster who was bading his goodbyes to anyone important close to them. The wizard only smiled at him but paid no attention yet. If the student had any question, it was safer they were out of Muggle ears. 

 

They finally were in London. Heatwaves through wind blew mad at their faces -the wind generated by the Thames. Dumbledore let William in control of tickets as they would take the tube to reach the nearest spot to go to the Ministry. He did not want to attract attention showing off his left knee on which a scar looking like a perfect representation of London underground to find his way. So he had decided to let the student manage everything on his own, as he had shown some solid knowledge on the matter in Charity’s class.   
The Headmaster gave William the necessary money (he had changed a bit of the school funds into Muggle coins) and the boy went straight to the cashier at the tube station. The plain woman behind the screen made no remark about the boy’s age: it had been three complete years she often saw him wandering on his own on summer holidays. Still, she had an inquisitive look at the old man behind the teenager. ‘Is that a relative?’ she asked, her lips pursed (like McGonagall when she was particularly crossed), while the tickets were being printed.   
‘My Headmaster,’ William answered, not in the spirits to lie. ‘He wanted to see a bit of London.’ 

The cashier said nothing more but she still was adamant by the Headmaster get-up. William silently agreed with her because he only attracted attention, even though his robes were not the most shiny. One wizard would say he was sober for once; still, people usually did not wear robes, only for disguise. ‘There’re courses about fantasy and all, and he used to teach The Hobbit,’ the teenager murmured when he had the tickets in hand, this time in the mood to lie. The cashier nodded, ok there were blocks too dedicated to what they were doing… We were in Britain after all. 

Once in the tube, William sensed some magic and looked at Dumbledore who waited him to ask his questions. He understood that easily as the old man hid nothing of his intention. A Silencing Charm, then.   
‘Didn’t you ever read your file about Hogwarts?’ Dumbledore asked with simple curiosity.   
‘Well, that’s coherent but… I was wondering if I get any chance to pass my A Levels anyway. For real, I mean.’ the boy answered at once, while he was counting the remaining stops to their destination and thinking again about that list of the topics he was supposedly attending - ah, maths, physics, literature… OK, he was happy not attending PE.   
The old wizard said nothing for two complete stops, maybe he was thinking hard about that possibility. ‘Next question?’  
Of course William had too many questions at the same time. Too curious, too hungry to know more. That was why he had been punched by others in primary school. Always his nose in a book, making no noise, making no friends, reading about Queen Victoria and daydreaming all time. And thinking too much as well. That was weird, unnatural, every word used to classify things which were out of nature.   
‘Do you think they would consider all my Muggle papers relevant for - the guardianship procedure?’   
‘Since Voldemort had fallen, I have noted a certain inclination from the Ministry to ease Muggle borns’ lives.’ Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkly.   
William had cringed at the name, suddenly remembered his vague readings about French, bit his tongue, and concentrated to go out the tube, the Headmaster following him. Certainly the right time to debate about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named name was for a decade later. 

 

Their surroundings were - noisy, crowded as expected at that hour of the morning. ‘Life in London is amazing,’ Dumbledore suddenly beamed, admiring all movements around him, from the pedestrians to the cars, the black taxis, the red buses, even the pigeons. ‘Ah, yes, this way William.’ he added when he recognised where they were, gently pushed forwards the teenager.   
Once they were stuck in an old telephone booth, the Headmaster composed a series of numbers. ‘Six-two-four-four-two’, William recited - neither that he wanted to spy over his Headmaster’s shoulder, nor he would like to understand everything about the magical world, but numbers were safe when he was anxious. Pi had always been a life belt to him.   
‘Excellent, I understand now when Filius had told us that you were an observer,’ Dumbledore smiled at him, while William shut himself away at once, whenever one talked about him. A female dead voice distracted both of them, asking for the motive of their visit at the Ministry, to which the old wizard fulfilled the request. Soon, two badges popped out from the receiver and the female voice wished them a good day at the Ministry.

Oh my, the booth was going down like an elevator. Out of reflex, William grabbed whatever he could, his jaw clenched. THAT WAS NOT NORMAL AT ALL, FOR GOD’S SAKE, his mind yelled in his skull. Fortunately, Dumbledore pretended he witnessed nothing. A great change from other first years when they had had their flying lessons and mocked William for weeks.  
He had hated flying on a broom. He would hate to board in a plane as hard. Only watching them scared him to the wits.  
From complete claustrophobic darkness, a huge golden light soon saturated the teenager’s retinas and he had the answer of the light’s origin: it came from the biggest hall he ever saw in his life (Windsor castle was ridiculous in comparison). 

The booth stopped, the door opened and both visitors came out of it, halted for William to admire the place - and mostly for him to recover normal senses and breath.   
Here down, it was crowded too. Lots and lots of wizards and witches, other creatures the student had only seen in his books, made their way to the faraway escalators, the chimneys (Floo Network, the boy guessed), other booths and so on and so forth. Then, a massive thing attracted his gaze. At the center of the hall - the Atrium, Dumbledore told him - was a huge status making the job of a fountain. Coming closer, the student could identify a couple of magicians, a House-Elf, a Goblin and a Centaur. When they walked close to it, he watched them closer: their faces had mievre expressions of… Wait a minute - adoration toward the only two people holding a wand. What the Hell?   
Whatever other people could say about it, William found it ugly but kept it for himself. 

‘We may wait at the control area, if Severus is not yet arrived. He had a longer way to come.’ Dumbledore said while they were crossing the crowd to where some desks a bit like the ones we could see in aeroports to check luggages and people’s tickets.   
‘How were Midlands, my boy?’ 

William froze at once when he could see his Potions professor, and him watched the boy from head to toe before he replied in a scorn ‘Foggy. I hope Melbourne caused no damage.’   
‘Oh no, he helped me with the tube actually,’ the old wizard replied in a smile. ‘Clever boy.’ he added, while Snape pressed his lips to form a thin line and William rolled his eyes. 

Dumbledore did not see it while the Raven did and he composed a neutral expression at that: OK, he clearly was not the kind of Ravenclaw showing-off.   
Well, if William repeated to his Potions professor what he had said to the cashier, the young man would wonder a long time about his Sorting.   
The three of them passed through the control area with no problem, still William had hesitated between handing his ID card and his wand - apart from that detail, it went smoothly. He had feared that Snape’s passage would lengthen the procedure but no one did so and no one paid them any attention. 

The escalators were another piece of stress. The teenager tried to hide it, Dumbledore being the witness once was far enough, and Snape would have no privilege of it. Wrong, both adults were better observers than him. The boy finally gave up all idea to trick them and focused on the purple paper planes and smiled at them. Back in primary school, boys spent time building their little planes. That was a serious technic in the paper folding, whether you wanted more speed. He suddenly remembered in the process about a guy in his class who named all his planes from those which had served during World War Two. He next wondered how his life had turned to be since then.  
The second floor was too quick to access to his taste: the guardianship was being more real. However, he was glad to quit those elevators. They reminded him of the ones from before war. In one word: nicely made and all but noisy, oldy and excessively crowdy. 

 

The second floor looked like a maze to William’s view. There were corridors in front of him and on his sides, mere indication signs to where they wish to go at eye height. He read all of them: Department of Magical Law Enforcement (go straight); Improper Use of Magic Office, Aurors Headquarters (turn left); Wizengamot Administration Services (turn right).  
Why Enforcement? He frowned, looked after an answer when he gazed at his professors and noted Snape was tense and Dumbledore was already going to the Magical Law Enforcement direction. He decided to give in and followed both adults, becoming tense as well, while he tried to distract his mind with his neat reading of every sign they met. He also glimpsed a few posters, like warnings, pieces of advices or job offers. 

‘Oh! Good morning Mr Dumbledore,’ exclaimed a female voice in one of the too numerous corridors. William stopped reading a poster entitled The Ministry of Magic takes care of the magical citizens to watch the woman. She might be in her forties and wore wine red robes with a calligraphed golden W embroidered on her chest. He did not pay attention to other details - that was why he could not recognise people.   
‘Mrs Bones,’ the Headmaster bowed a little. ‘What are you doing outside the Wizengamot?’  
‘If you are asking that question, it means you weren’t aware of my responsibility on the guardianship concerning professor Snape and Mr Melbourne.’ she answered calmly before she acknowledged their presence and bowed her head as a good day. ‘As from professor Snape’s precedence with the justice, the Department had decided that I was in charge. I surely feel delighted: this is a clear way to tell me they are confident about my skills -’ she stopped at once and gazed back at Snape who was burning her through his black orbs. ‘The most important detail is that the whole procedure goes smoothly and both of you, guardian and ward, are listened and considered. If you please follow me, then.’ she cut short and preceded them to reach a study. 

Finally. Here they were. Their lives would change forever. They could not go backwards (could not they?).

 

William’s nervousness decided to show off at that very moment and he shook from head to toe. He exhaled, closed his eyes a few seconds and tried to control this emotion crashing down his limbs. The Headmaster witnessed it and he smiled gently, warmly while he put a hand on his shoulder. William would have liked to break the contact but a sort of warmth occurred and spread smoothly into him. Even if it made him well, he glimpsed at Dumbledore with anxious eyes. ‘Well, I’ll give you some reading about advanced magic - unless you are overworked with your assignments.’ the old wizard whispered to the boy and winked synchronically. He then pushed the teenager forward, not waiting any answer.   
William was anxious but Snape was as rigid as a stone status - his own way to express his nervousness. He had walked in the study like an automat and his face was more unreadable than usual - surely he had this perfection of pretence when he was with - him, the Eaglet thought.

Amelia Bones invited the three of them to sit down in comfortable armchairs and she sat behind her desk. Next, she put on her nice framed glasses and opened a file (files were like old books of parchment from the Muggle Middle-Ages, as it was the case for books - but wizards had always used spells to protect those). She smiled at the Raven and the Eaglet, in the idea to give this formal procedure a calm tone. She was not here to judge anyone, to imply Snape would be a horrible person to take care of William, and she did not want to ask to the Muggleborn how was his life lately. She had the records by the way, not every single detail, only his Head’s testimony, and watching the teenager was enough information for her.   
From what she could see, William’s anxiousness was no normal - indeed, lots of people were anxious when they sat in the same room with her; however, the boy’s was at high range, too high for it be only a reactive defensive emotion produced by his brain for his body. According to her, this kind of anxiety was invalidating. Then, the dark marks under his eyes: how could he be that exhausted? Teenagers generally looked super active, he not. His pale complexion was not only due to his natural pigmentation: you could add a lack of sleep and feeding. To conclude, his general composure on his armchair: part of it was from his invalidating anxiousness, part of it was - she had trouble describing it correctly, though yes, it was part of who he was, he did not pretend anything for sure but -   
Before Bones had gained her honourable position at the Wizengamot, she had often dealt with cases involving children. By so, she had always tried to elude those painful moments. Not to mention Dumbledore’s help.   
‘I tend to reassure people straight away when it is true,’ the woman said, her hands lay on the file. ‘In regard of your profile, Mr Snape, there is nothing wrong. You are recognised as a Master from all in Great-Britain, you have a honourable position as professor at Hogwarts and your living place in London is reliable to receive a teenager.’ she then added as proofs in a professional tone.   
If Snape was aware of his somewhat imprisonment at Hogwarts, he did not know it would serve him before he would spy properly. He first looked at Bones disbelievingly before he composed a neutral posture. ‘That’s not how some people depict me,’ he gritted, bitter.   
‘I was sure you would say something like that,’ Bones replied, not troubled at all about the young man’s reaction. ‘The fact that you are prior to be Mr Melbourne’s guardian is that you know each other, as professor Dumbledore and his employees had testified. It is a positive stance to consider as some studies show that some guardianships fail because of incompatibilities between the guardian and the ward.’   
A snort answered her - if only it considered sole guardians. 

‘It is an excellent move for you not to keep in mind what you have endured as a child.’  
‘How do you know - ?’ Snape reacted violently, spat at the woman, now on his feet, rage distorting his features.  
‘My profession allows me to have certain abilities to understand my clients’ reactions.’ Bones replied, far from frightened, still she said those words in a firm voice to remind him she was in control in her study, not him. ‘You have started to feel ill-at-ease when I mentioned the positive aspects of your current life as if it were wrong and you didn’t deserve any of this.’  
She paused, sighed, and put off her glasses to massage her eyes. ‘From someone proud of himself, you act oddly.’   
This time, Snape did not fight - he even gave up and sat loudly back on his armchair. Dumbledore gazed at him sympathetically and William watched with accurate attention the wall behind the judge. OK, they acted normally, the Raven thought. The young man needed this to control his emotions. A bit reinforcement of his Occlumency mind walls and he could let loose part of his nervousness and anger. Remember how you proceeded - earlier. That’s not different. The situation is alien but danger is quite the same, so act as usual…   
‘The most important thing for a ward is to feel security and homeness and according to Mr Dumbledore, you easily fulfill both,’ the woman said, coming back on the matter.   
Oh yes, his apartment was surrounded by wards of any sort - not only for security but because of his paranoia. It would only be secured - maybe too much but considering who he was going to be the guardian, it certainly was worth it. 

All of a sudden, William glanced at everyone and all of them noted this. His sky-blue orbs did look threatening. ‘Is there anything worrying you?’ Bones asked gently. She needed him to - well, relax. His whole body language was yelling at them.   
‘I -’ He stopped, felt even more ill-at-ease, agitated a bit, looked at the door, then the ceiling while his breathing was fast.   
‘For the umpth time, breathe,’ Snape growled. He next glanced at the judge and muttered anxiety - as if he feared her reaction from his brutal tone and needed to justify his attitude. She only smiled, somehow understanding.   
William did not calm down completely to his professor’s taste, nevertheless he managed to keep his panic attack at bay. ‘I mean… the procedures,’ he trailed off and gestured to point out the file the judge was holding. ‘We normally have to state if the potential guardian is mentally capable of fulfilling their duties, right?’  
Indeed Amelia Bones had done the whole procedure but she was astonished the boy knew much and that he worried about it. She rose her eyebrows in the process. ‘Well, yes, we did so Mr Melbourne. Everything is ok.’ she replied to him at last when she recovered from her surprise.   
Snape was glaring at the Eaglet however it was impossible to interpret his gaze.   
‘Apart from me, or someone else from the team, who would pay you a visit from time to time during the summer, Mr Dumbledore had willingly accepted to do so as well to guarantee a smooth period of adaptation.’ the woman then said. 

The meeting lasted one other couple of minutes. The papers were signed and the three male persons finally went out of the Ministry. A heavy weight on his gut, William felt all nervous. It appeared that Snape was experiencing a similar emotion. Only Dumbledore looked pleased and delighted. According to the old man, the student’s situation would only be better from now on and his plan to reinforce his employee’s position as the best spy for Voldemort would only go well. Both adults followed the teenager to the orphanage, he would come at Snape’s the following day. His mission from now on was to pack all of his stuff. 

 

*

 

The first hours, days, were odd. Indeed, Snape was relieved the boy refused to move - literally- but being aware of a teen who locked himself in what was his room now was a bit - unnerving.   
Still, he said nothing: necessary time to adapt and - yes, he had to admit that it was a simple measure of self preservation like the ones he had when his own father was too drunk to note what he was doing. Accepting that, he only checked through magic his ward was still alive and then focused on his amount of work. Seldomly he went up to check.   
The Potions master was right. William had learned a few useful things at the orphanage such as make people forget about his existence. He thought he succeeding in it as his guardian never disturbed him, either while he was reading or studying, or even daydreaming, wondering about all of that situation. 

And he liked to stay in that room. He knew that no one would bother him, chase him in the corridors, cut the water while having his shower, throw him up his food - or even hex him randomly.   
Well, it was a bit unnerving when his professor, guardian, whatever, suddenly popped up with no upcoming warning. Too skilled to be silent, this one. The first times, the boy gasped a few noiseless cries and looked frantically around them for a whole and long minute.   
Yes, Snape could pop up in that room whenever he wanted because it was his flat. Not to mention the fact they more or less were not expecting to live under the same roof - to the least they could think about that weird situation. 

Nonetheless, the young man was mostly silent and watchful toward William. He rarely had to warn him about behaving and not too be so noisy.   
The boy was silent from crack of dawn to bedtime stories. The only way professor now guardian Snape knew that things looked quite managed by the boy were the quick visits he paid to him. William had needed no permission to tidy his clothes neatly and to do the same with his books, notebooks, sketchbooks and an atrocious amount of pens, pencils and quills.   
The room was a bit low from the ceiling. There was a mere bookshelf and a laundry, a bed, a bedside table, and the window was round. Apparently, the lack of a desk had been overcome as Snape very often spotted the boy crouched at an angle with cushions all around him and protecting his neck, whatever book or homework on his knees.   
From that, the Potions master had made his mind: the teenager needed few. 

However, the problem was that none of them had a proper healthy life. Snape certainly feared Dumbledore upcoming visit: how could he demand the teenager to eat and sleep at decent hours and sufficiently if he did not respect them either? He even often forgot to eat and sleep, too concentrated in brewing his potions and spending his nose in his research.   
Then came the period when William wanted to know his surrounding and establish his own spots. During breakfast on that morning (both of them remembered normal people had breakfast at seven in the morning), he unfolded his London map which was a bit torn and used under his professor’s amazed eyes. That was more than a map, the potioneer registered at once when he read London’s Rail and Tube Service. He frowned at the complexity of it. It seemed that his student read it with an irritable easiness as he quickly spotted Broad Lane in that mess.   
‘Third zone,’ he mumbled suddenly. ‘OK. It’s a bit long to join the Library. Worth a whole day trip.’ Next, he folded back his map as if nothing had occurred and wished to finish his breakfast in silence, already thinking about wandering at Tottenham and Northumberland Park; however he forgot that he had a real guardian this time who had a long list of questions by now.   
‘What’s that?’ Snape asked in a sour tone. 

Oi. The one which clearly said he just hated the way William acted and that he had no clue of what was occurring in his dunderhead’s mind.   
‘London’s Rail and Tube Service,’ the boy mumbled.   
‘Indeed,’ Snape cut short, his lips twisting. ‘I know reading, but what’s that? Are you planning to run away?’  
William looked at him all puzzled, his face was blank and his immobility indicated that it was like he had received a slap. ‘Wh-what?’ he stammered. ‘Run away? Why?’   
Why, oh for Merlin’s sake. The Potions master sighed and passed a tired hand on his face. OK, he was the most paranoid of the two in that room. He gazed at the teenager who pretended his bowl was worth to watch carefully. He could read on his face and eyes he felt insecure now. William bit his lower lip, anxious, wondering if his guardian would forbid him to go to the Library anytime he desired. He realised only now that he needed to find back some safe habits even though he was no more in that freaking orphanage.  
Or to pay a visit to the Queen - even though She was not aware of his presence near Buckingham Palace at all.   
Still, William loved to spend a bit near the castle.   
‘What’s that for, then?’ the Raven tried again. ‘No lies.’ he added.   
The student recollected his thoughts and felt stupid, so stupid; ‘I - I’d like to go to the Library and - if it’s okay…’  
‘The London Library?’  
‘Yes, sir - er,’ he blushed, now watching the teapot.   
Snape sighed again. Well, both of them would train to call each other by their first names but he first thought it weird then he was afraid he would lose the habit to call - William - Melbourne once back at Hogwarts. That his tongue would betray him and every single dunderhead around them made fun of his ward and he fooled.   
Wait -   
‘What do you want to spend the whole day there?’ the adult asked then to chase his useless thoughts and to come back to present.   
‘It’s the way I proceed,’ William mumbled. ‘When I want to walk a bit, I just use the transportations to go whenever I want… like Buckingham. Or… Hyde Park. Baker Street is too crowded so I stopped trying to visit.’  
Snape frowned. Baker Street. He had no memory of why that name rang a bell in his mind. He put it aside and came on prior details. ‘How do you manage to use any - tube whenever you want? Doesn’t it cost you arms and legs?’   
‘Yes,’ William then smiled weakly. ‘I also wanted to ask you if we could go together to renew my subscription.’  
Subscription

Go together. 

He needed to smoke, have a cold shower, smoke again, check if he was sane (no, useless, he was not). As he said no word, the teenager thought better finishing his breakfast and go back in his room. The professor let him do so and when the boy was out of his sight, he gave in his coffee mug and walked to the balcony to smoke.   
Noon passed by and Snape was still deep in thoughts - still he finally decided to end that stupid waste of time: if he had to live with Melbourne, he had to involve himself a bit better. He then dropped The Potioneer he was reading and went upstairs. He purposely made noises for once and opened the door. The boy had got up and was apprehensive. His whole body was tense.  
‘Where do we renew subscriptions?’ the Raven asked, his own composure as neutral as possible. 

 

*

 

Going outside during the afternoon was a bad idea - Snape grumbled under the blind bright sun. It would be stupid he ended out with a heat stroke. The young man grumbled a little bit more before he grabbed his ward by the arm with no warning and tore him inside a market.   
William had started to protest and finally decided to shut his mouth not to attract people’s attention. None of them would like that anyway. He also stopped it as the Raven had glared him with daggering eyes. The teenager thoroughly followed his guardian and soon understood what he was looking for, so he helped him purchase the essentials to endure warmth: bottles of water and sunglasses. They excluded fans; one would think they were - well, society was still violent to homosexuals (men did not possess fans). 

‘I thought the hippy movement had died,’ the Raven commented in a low voice while both of them were watching a stack of sunglasses. William was trying a star-shaped multi-coloured pair and smiled at his professor who rolled his eyes. The teenager sighed and put them back at their place and continued searching. Snape had chosen a simili of Ray-Bans. Classic, black-smoked type. 

William popped up again, this time with blue rounded glasses, a bit like the ones late John Lennon wore. ‘I like them,’ he said firmly, as if he already knew they would not please the so classical, traditional, I-only-swear-to-black-colour young man.   
Nevertheless, Snape did not debate on his choice and went straight away to the closest cashier to pay and to leave that Hell of a place. A market was far bigger than a grocery. 

As soon as William got inside the center he used to go every summer, he forced his way to - wait. Snape had hold him by the shoulder to calm down and let him follow the trail because the least desire for the Potions master was to be drowned in a crowd, literally.   
‘I wait you here,’ the young man said holding his hands together in front of him as if he were a security guard. The teenager gazed at him in surprise, frowned.   
‘Don’t you want a subscription?’ he asked. ‘S- Severus?’

He bit his lower lip and looked down to his shoes, wondering if it was good, if he would succeed in that whole situation (as he had been useless from the beginning) and - and.   
‘Look at me.’ his guardian demanded in a whisper. ‘Look - at -me.’ he repeated in a threatening tone. The boy obeyed him but he had difficulties to focus on his face and look at him straight, like he had demanded. ‘It’s fine, OK? No, no, I insist. We won’t spend the whole summer looking at each other sheepishly wondering if we would hurt each other in the process. So, William, hang on and -’  
Snape sighed, exhaled soundly and composed himself again as if nothing of the sort had happened. ‘And to answer to your question, I can Apparate.’  
‘That’s cheating,’ William replied in a mumble, his throat hurting as he was on the verge to cry.   
‘Brat’, the Raven retorted but a tiny smile temporally appeared on his lips. 

 

‘Hey, hello William!’ a female voice interrupted them at once. ‘How do y’do?’   
‘Hello Patrice,’ the teenager replied, his smile a bit tense but from the way his eyes shone, Snape could relate that she was someone he knew.   
‘Same renewal?’ she then asked as he did not answer her question and as dozens of people around them needed her services as well, Patrice had quickly come back to her job. ‘Are you accompanying William, sir?’ she pursued, looking at the young man next to the boy. She obtained a mere nod and guided them to her office desk.   
She invited them to sit down while she opened a drawer and grabbed a series of sheets of paper: a file both of male visitors read on. ‘OK, zones one, two and three as usual?’   
‘Y - yes, but…’  
She looked up and gazed the boy who felt so ill-at-ease. ‘But?’ she pressed him gently with a smile.   
‘I’ve changed location… That’s why - Severus is here with me. He's my guardian.’ he stammered and blushed at the end. 

Patrice’s face illuminated at that piece of news. She watched them one after the other, beaming as if she had received a wonderful gift. ‘Ooooooh, that’s… great news! William…!’ However, she stopped soon because Snape was glaring at her in a sinister way. ‘Well… You need to give me water tax or electricity to prove you live together - Or, you hand me a handwritten letter stating you’re in charge of William if it’s a recent situation,’ she said in a professional tone, looking at the adult facing her, modifying her information due to the look he had to her - far from pleasant. Nonetheless, she was a professional so she tried her best to keep her emotions at bay and continue her duty as if everything was normal. And she liked William enough not to be destabilised by that weird guardian. He must be protective. 

‘Don’t you need copies of - of the guardianship?’ the teenager asked in a low voice, twisting his hands nervously. Snape was not that fan of the current situation and looked concerned when William glimpsed at him helplessly. Even though the boy was far at ease than him, he looked a bit lost on that point - and he looked desperate because his referent could not help him at all.  
‘No need to bring me that copy. Our service doesn’t require such a thing, only a letter. I’d be obliged to renew your subscription only by tomorrow, then.’ she concluded in a sorry smile.  
‘Fine.’ Snape said, intervening for the very first time. ‘We’d do that. Thank you miss.’   
Patrice smiled. She got up and followed them to the door to let them leave. ‘Take care of yourself, William.’ she said as a farewell. 

‘What did you ever tell to that woman?’ Snape asked sweetly in a whisper.   
‘Nothing. She has always seen me on my own. Doesn’t need a PhD to understand things.’ William replied dryly. 

 

As soon as William could use his red subscription card on which the orphanage location had disappeared forever, he convinced his guardian to go to the Library to celebrate that.   
Both of them went through the tube station, after the teenager had purchased a ticket for his guardian. No one looked twice at the Raven, still they kept their distance from him. The turnstile, click, click, click. Automatism. People in and out, in rows before and after. That was an odd image to watch from the Potions master’s perspective. Well, he looked at his ward who was faster than others, or himself indeed, because he had that subscription card. Odd but fascinating at the same time. Snape suddenly looked around them, all alert, as if he was afraid someone would have read his mind at that very moment. A few months ago, it would have signed his death.   
Moreover, it was certainly the very first time he admitted (to himself) that something from the Muggle world was fascinating.   
Odder than that was when he gazed back at what was next to him and his attention was attracted to William’s orbs fixing him with an unreadable expression - and said flatly ‘Sometimes, I think about 1984 and I become very anxious…’ and continued his way in those light-tiling gallery. And the more they went down, the noiser it became. Did not mention the vibrations and the screeches. 

 

The tube was somewhat scary, Snape could feel his neck hairs prickle and his spy sense higher than usual. Up in the world, the streets were black from crowd. Down here, it was the same and Snape disliked it much. ‘I agree it’s a nightmare but it’s worth it, I guess,’ the boy mumbled. The young man looked at him, startled. Since when had he developed the capacity to understand what was his current mood and had he been so composed?

They piled up in the tube, the doors closed just behind them - a bit more and Snape would have jumped. These surroundings - he did not know them. The teenager made his way to find a spot and his guardian followed him consciously. The first was used and the second inspired people not to bother him. They soon were in an angle and william closed his eyes and sighed. ‘Before you come to visit the Library, I need to understand a few things: first my surroundings. I need data or I’ll die from anxiety.’  
William frowned from surprise: he did not expect his taciturn professor was that open so quickly. Well, he surely was right if they wanted to smooth things until September. ‘Don’t you know London, s - Severus?’ he asked in a whisper.   
‘Not that much, only where I must Apparate to go to the Ministry or St Mungo.’


	13. Rules and Tea Parties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take time to thank people following this story and commenting. It means a lot to me and encourages me to continue writing in a foreign language. In addition, I'm sorry I'm 3 weeks late for this chapter but times have been quite tough mentally to me and I barely wrote a few paragraphs of chapter 14. I still don't know when I'd finish it. I hope you'd understand and wait patiently. I'm sincerely sorry. Blut.

Snape admitted that the London Library was a great place: the building was huge, high, large and adequate to keep books safely. In addition, the young man thought that his ward had been right to escape in there whenever something bad occurred to him while he was at the orphanage rather than wandering in the streets and end up like a hooligan. However, the adult now had to fix some rules in order to keep the whole living on tracks; such as curfew, procedures whenever the boy felt in danger, how to behave, what to do when the boy wanted to go out and so on and so forth. Until now, they had not needed much of those due to William’s locked period in his room. As he had that subscription card to move in London, things would be different. 

 

While the Raven was cooking dinner (spiced salmon, rice and broccoli), William was doing his Herbology homework. The evening was less stifling than usual and the windows were open to appreciate that cool air coming from outside. 

Fortunately to the guardian, he did not have to remind the boy to do his homework and not to bother him while he was working on his side - and that was a huge point on which both of them would not fight about. Moreover, the teenager’s impulsivity seemed to have lowered down. Yet, he often looked tense, still in the need to protect himself but he apparently understood he was safe now in this flat. He spoke very few, that was not a problem because Snape was the silent one as well. The previous day, Bones had come in to see if everything was all right and she had reassured the adult on the way he proceeded. She had noted his potion laboratory and was glad the room was secured and that the boy had no access to it without supervision. In order to prove her he was clean, the Potions master had shown her his order book he had co-written with Mrs Pomfrey. She then had spent time alone with William in his room. Whatever the boy had said, the judge had come out the bedroom with a smile and she bade them goodbye. 

 

‘How’s your essay going?’ the adult asked suddenly. He had not looked up from his cooking, and William noticed his professor was trying his best to fulfill his role as smoothly as possible. The Raven’s expression was neutral and his tension demonstrated only that he was concentrated on not burning the fish. 

‘Quite good… I guess,’ the teenager answered slowly. He next shrugged when this time the adult watched him inquisitively. ‘Well, I would know when professor Sprout would mark it.’ 

‘I don’t ask you if it would satisfy your professor, I ask you how you feel about it now.’ Snape replied sternly. Then, he focused back on the fish and lit off the hotplate. He put aside the frying pan and looked after the rice cooking. He decided it needed a bit more time and waited for the Eaglet’s answer, his back against the countertop, his arms crossed and his chin up. 

 

William glimpsed at his sheets, roll of parchment and notebooks, preferring to look at them to answer. ‘My plan is made, my sources are ready and - well, I guess I can write the whole essay by tomorrow morning. That’s only draft,’ he concluded. 

‘Yes, I can see it’s messy,’ the adult mocked. ‘Dinner is ready.’ he changed the subject at once. As far as he said those words, the boy reached the plates to put a pair on the kitchen table. ‘I can do it, you know,’ Snape commented. 

‘And I can do something to help you, s - Severus.’ He really wanted to add sir this time to try to smoothen his tone but he blushed instead. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to -’ 

The adult rose an eyebrow. ‘I cannot dock you points and there’s no detention system here - even though there’s enough to do to fulfill those in my lab,’ he added in a smirk. ‘But I must warn you about some rules anyway -’ he sighed. He did not like to command outside of school because he had suffered too much from his father’s and mother’s rules which were - well, turning around not to be noisy in order to keep his father’s temperament low. 

 

An odd silence occurred. Then William cleaned his homework, surely threw them when he brought them in his room and came back in the kitchen as he had been quick. ‘What are they?’ he shyly asked while he arranged a pair of silverware on the table. 

Snape strained the rice and put it back in the saucepan. ‘The first one is to tell me, or write down to me, where you go. I know you didn’t do that before because you literally ran away from the orphanage, but here you don’t need to - but I don’t want you locked in your room forever. If you need to go to the Library or elsewhere, I’d like to know that in order to fetch you whenever I want for any reason.’

William gazed straight at him. He would do that, that’s was not that hard to understand and accept that kind of rule. He still was underage. Well, things were different so he had to adapt a bit, that was all. ‘That’s better to know where you are to fetch you if you’re in danger rather than me wandering in London cluelessly.’ Snape added. The teenager nodded. ‘The second important point I want to fix is about your finances. As you may know, I am in charge of your parents legs until you’re in age.’

 

William now looked fully tense and his eyes shone brightly from contained tears - yes, he had made his mind about that detail but hearing this somehow hurt. He was glad that his finances were in Snape’s hands, it was easier for him to consider that only one adult took care of his money rather than a whole organism. Yet, he felt odd about that. He had difficulties to swallow normally. ‘You’ve been managing a lot of things on your own, such as paying your school supplies. That’s remarkable from some people, and I may reckon you were practical on that matter; but from now, I’d rather enjoy the idea of you telling me if you need a particular thing and me paying, as far as possible with my own money. I regret that your second-hand cauldron won’t last long in the two following years. It can melt and you perfectly are aware of the cauldron quality in potion making. So when you’ll receive your Hogwarts letter and we would go to Diagon Alley, I’d like to pay you a decent cauldron.’ 

 

They then looked at each other - Snape a bit nervous because he now embodied his role as guardian entirely, William ill-at-ease at the idea he would not worry that much about his needs and that someone from the wizarding world would help him correctly. That was comfortable, nevertheless that feeling was totally new to him. 

‘How did you manage to buy your Mug- books?’ the Potions master asked, cutting short the word Muggle. He suddenly realised that distinction sounded wrong. 

‘I - They had a contract and gave me pocket money every week.’ the boy whispered as an answer, while he helped himself with a bit of broccoli. ‘I’ve saved some and then I could buy books when I had enough money to do so.’

Snape nodded. ‘Well, I’ll do that, giving you pocket money. If you don’t pay any attention to it, I’d stop. I don’t want you to run out from money when you’ll reach your independence. How much did you save?’

 

That was very private but William finally gave in that feeling all of these questions sounded wrong. His guardian needed a clear view of his former life, not to change much things of it but at the same time assuring a line not to cross and careness. ‘Three hundred pounds, more or less…’ the boy said. ‘I spent the whole in my school supplies.’ he quickly added in a pressed tone, his head low in fear the Raven would go mad at him. 

Despite this, Snape only shrugged. He then silently insisted that the teenager would eat by handing him the rice plate to help himself. ‘They are expensive… And your parents didn’t possess much. I guess that’s quite good.’ he thought out loud. 

 

Too much different emotions in a ridiculous amount of time, William buried his head in his hands. At first, Snape thought he would cry but nothing of the sort happened. It might be too much at once, he admitted to himself but he preferred everything disagreeable was said now so that they could spend the end of summer on pacific terms. And they needed that to survive this. 

However, it was stressful and they barely ate anything in their plates. That was not a problem in itself. The meal could survive two whole days in the fridge. 

‘Is that all right?’ Snape finally asked in a soft tone. 

Too weird coming from him that William looked at him in all a sudden. 

‘I’m afraid that I hurt you more than I thought… And I don’t ask those questions on that purpose.’

‘I know…’ the teenager whispered. ‘It’s not that which hurt me… My parents, they…’ he trailed off before he gave away. 

They tried to eat more but they soon let down that as well. Dishes were cleared and the remains of dinner safe in the fridge. William sat down on the couch in the prospect to calm himself down with the help of Queen Victoria through that history book merely entitled British Nineteenth Century History.

 

Snape boiled some water in the kettle with a flick of his wand and prepared one of his personal recipes of infusion in two mugs. When the drink was ready, he put both mugs on the coffee table and crawled himself on his ward’s opposite. He could witness the boy’s mere attempt to concentrate but he simply failed at it. His eyes were unfocused and his hands were shaking slightly. 

He knew how to help him to feel better - well, not really, but close to. So, he asked him: ‘While we were in the tube the other day… You mentioned Baker Street and that name rang a bell but I can’t remember its nature…’ 

William nodded here and there while he was speaking, then he closed his book and put it gently on the coffee table. 

‘That’s where Sherlock Holmes from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s short stories lives. There’s a museum at 221B. People and tourists pay it a visit.’ 

From Snape’s curious face, the teenager quickly understood he had no further clue about what he was talking about. ‘You never read or heard about The Hound of the Baskervilles, or ‘A Study in Scarlet’, ‘The Greek Interpret’…?’ he stopped soon when the adult rose a hand with an impatient expression on his features. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled at last. 

‘How could I hear about it when I’ve spent my early life rejecting my Muggle origins?’ the Raven growled. He could not help it but the boy unconsciously touched a sensitive point. ‘How?’ 

The teenager understood now and the only thing he managed to do was to escape in his room. He slammed the door and reached his bed out of energy, ducked his head in his cushion to cry - because all of his emotions dropped down at once.

 

 

‘Well done Severus,’ the young man mumbled. He sighed and rubbed his eyes… That spurt of anger he had had now was directed against himself. It was simple to hate himself - he had always seen his life as a mess. All of his actions and words hurt people, made him choose wrong paths and dig a deeper hole in which he was burying himself. 

The only move he succeeded to make was to smoke at the balcony and it did not lighten his spirits at all. He desired to solve the situation but at the same time feared he would worsen it - and the main problem in it was that he feared to mess up as he did not care at all in normal time. Nevertheless, he knew that if he let the thing rooting all night, they would not recover from it. 

 

The stairs were producing a sinister noise. William wished he would disappear at once, a knot in his throat, his whole body trembling, his lungs protesting from his disarray breathing. The door was even gloomier when it opened. The footsteps were more silent but their omen was real. 

Snape had no clue about how to act or say - he would snarl at the boy’s attitude which reminded him of a child’s and yet he remembered he had done that plenty of times when he was living at Spinner’s End. Surely he did not want his ward to experience similar painful situations than his own. That was due to that he acted oddly. 

Stop overthink, over analyze. He needs as much as you that it ends. 

‘William…’ he tried hesitantly a first time, with the most gentle tone he could manage. As nothing occurred, he rolled his eyes. Despite his will to fix things, he had very little patience. Therefore he sat down at the end of the bed with all his weight. The mattress protested in the process. 

‘Can you stop crying a couple of seconds the time I need to apologize?’ he voiced loudly. 

 

Here, the boy reacted. He slowly erected his head from the cushion and gazed at him from behind his curly hair. William then sat down carefully and watched at the wall behind his guardian’s head. The door was open. ‘You don’t need to… apologise,’ he mumbled next. 

‘Why not?’ the adult asked in a snarl, his arms crossed, eyebrows raised. 

‘Because… I hadn’t had to insist on Sherlock Holmes whereas I knew that you…’ he did not know how to formulate his thought and stopped there. ‘And that I react like a child because I can’t overcome emotions.’ he continued. 

‘You made the point.’ Even though the Raven had messed up, he was inclined to accept the teenager’s view on the situation. In addition, his apologies were well received.

‘I’m sorry,’ the Eaglet finally said and he squeezed the cushion in a hug, his head resting on the top of it. 

After a few moment of complete silence, the Potions master said ‘you dropped your infusion. And your book.’

‘I’ve plenty of others.’ William replied, stating that he would not move from here. 

 

Snape did not tell him to sleep well, that was useless, and he finally left. This time, the door was silent and the stairs made no noise. William stayed motionless for a long time. 

*

 

On that morning, Snape regretted his former life – the one before he was a proper Death Eater: loneliness suited him well, no one bothered him while he was attending his Potions master degree. 

Loneliness and silence – knock, knock, knock made two owls at exactly fifty to eight. 

The young man was close to jump from fear when he was pouring a strong black coffee in his mug. He almost let it down as he turned his attention to the closest window. Indeed he did not recognise any of those night birds but he felt some tension vanishing at acknowledging no Death Eater mission was at stake. The barn owl knocked once more as if it were irritated. Snape opened to them and they came in noisily before landing on the kitchen table. The other owl hooted. The Potions master looked at it more closely. Its traits reminded him of – ‘Are you William’s familiar, aren’t you?’ he murmured to the owl, which hooted once more as if it would nod to his words. 

 

He then picked up the rolls of parchment from the night birds and noted they both were addressed to his ward; ward who had not come out yet from his room since the previous evening. Snape sighed. He had spent most of the night reading about Wolfsbane potions and he had thought he had read for nothing at around two in the morning. Exhausted, he had dropped the book in an empty cauldron, muttered a series of curses and tried to sleep. He had failed, of course, and had poured his fifth mug of coffee before that unexpected mail delivery. The day promised to be long – long, long, long. 

 

‘Oh, Winston! How did you find me?’ A single drop of coffee fell down to the floor. It was the second time in a row Snape would have jumped and he gritted his teeth not to grumble words he would regret saying. William reached the bird and patted him gently, a broad smile on his face. This was the very first his guardian saw since they had been living together. While the owl had its quota of pats, Snape found out some food to offer to it and was wondering about its name. Winston was not that popular, right? He turned his heels from the fridge and put some lard on a plate he then pushed toward the owl. He always had some in any case. Never did he eat lard. Digestion was a nightmare after all and it would have been ridiculous to lower down his vigilance during a mission because of some lard as last meal. Snape sipped his coffee and growled from discontent: it had turned cold. His attention nevertheless focused on his ward – the last had frozen while he was reading a roll of parchment. A William frozen was equivalent of a serious amount of anxiety, whichever nature it had to take seriously in any case. The young man flicked his wand, his coffee freshly warm, and watched with carefulness the Eaglet.

 

‘What’s that?’ he asked neutral, but his eyes were ready to strike the author of this letter as soon as possible. 

All of a sudden, William managed to crack a smile on his lips. ‘They said I’ve got all of my OWLs,’ he answered slowly, not realising what he was reading and now saying yet. 

The Potions master pondered a while, how would he react? Despite the smile, William’s body language was still tense and he was rereading again and again as if he needed so to make sense of his results. Well, try something, the adult thought, even though you appear not having a heart – ok, he had not. ‘What’s your potion mark?’ He had inclined the most disinterested tone he could manage, not that sweet one which could imply judgement. 

‘Optimal, on both theory and practice... So I would follow your NEWT courses,’ the boy replied shyly, not daring to look at his guardian in the process. 

Nothing came from the Raven but this silence was more natural. 

 

Both of them then were busy in their morning routine and William closed himself in his room to finish his Herbology essay. Snape poured some more coffee before he continued brewing Skele-Gro. The next hour went well. Until someone rang at the door. Either guardian or ward froze, William’s heart beat painfully, Snape pondered if it was an immediate danger. Then, he remembered he was in charge of a Muggleborn teenager, a defenceless boy who would make nothing to save his neck; and he was the only one capable of fighting people off from his house. He put his potion in statis, washed his hands and came to the front door, his wand ready, while he checked his magical wards. Nothing wrong occurred but there was one essential rule to keep in mind: appearances can fool you. He let a few seconds running away to concentrate and opened. 

 

‘Good morning Severus,’ Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. The Raven grimaced, the Headmaster’s bright coloured robes burned his retinas. He did not reply but let his superior come in by making him room. ‘I am deeply sorry not foretelling you about my visit but I was quite busy lately - to the point I forgot to owl you,’ he added at last when the young man gazed at him severely. Nevertheless, Snape did not obliviate some polite rules and invited his host to sit down and offered him a cup of tea. 

 

The old man did so, not upset by his employee’s lack of communication at all. He even often found it amusing - and the Raven reacted back with a daggering glare, totally irritated. ‘I was brewing,’ he finally said, a normal reason to be upset according to him. 

They spent a whole couple of minutes in a total silence, only disturbed by their sipping from time to time. 

 

The Potions master was thinking about how he could prevent the boy to meet his other colleagues - well, he would meet very few of them as the majority had been sentenced to Azkaban. Anyway, he had to think about a some sort of protocol to react properly whenever it would occur. He could not retrieve a sigh, quite a silent one, but Dumbledore heard it anyway. Nevertheless, he only smiled gently at his employee and waited for him to speak. 

He had no need to wait in fact, as William came down his room - and the boy froze when he went aware of the presence of the old man in the living room with his guardian. The teenager did not know how to react, he was so awkward waiting like a statute. 

‘Oh, hello William. How are you?’ Dumbledore beamed. ‘Come and have a seat.’ He was so at ease he had made himself home, but as Snape reacted like a stone could do, the headmaster took responsibility of the matter. 

William obeyed in silence. At the very moment he reached a seat, the Raven flicked with his wand and a cup of tea landed to the coffee table under the boy’s gaze. 

‘How your essay is going?’ the Potions master asked, knowing that his ward would never answer the mere question about how he was - only forcefully by Pomfrey. 

‘I’m about to finish it,’ William said slowly, half concentrated on his tea, the cup in his hands. 

*

 

The evening went smoothly. The apartment was silent, only steps broke it from time to time. Snape was pacing in his lab, thinking hard. His recent research about the Wolfsbane let him in a sour anger that only masters in his field could have: no one had thought about the possibility that the potion surely needed to be adapted depending on the werewolf organism. One therapy could not work for every one, it even could kill him or her. That made Snape angry. And he paced, he paced,he paced. 

 

Soon, he heard some noise coming from the living room. The boy was preparing some tea by the specific noise heard, the Muggle way per se. The kettle slowly hissed as the water came close to boiling and the ‘click’ of a kettle out of fire joined soon. Then, the noise of someone pouring some liquid in a mug and the usual noise when someone sat on the couch. 

 

The Potions master cast silently a Tempus: it was quite late. They needed to eat. This mere perspective of worrying about such pragmatic aspects of a human life annoyed him. He shook his head irritably before he came out the lab, closed the door with much cautiousness, and asked to a sleepy William why he did not start cooking dinner with a snarling voice. 

This was efficient to wake the boy up. He looked at his guardian with a worried face and he blinked hard at him. Nonetheless, he slightly calmed down when he witnessed his guardian cooking - oh, that was humour. William grumbled under his breath. How could he guess that was humour? Bloody humour. He even rolled his eyes. 

 

'What?' snapped Snape who looked at him back, while he poured rice out of the saucepan. They ate a lot of rice and fish, without mentioning the large variety of vegetables, as if his professor avoided gluten products and meat as much as possible. William did not care much about not eating meat and all, he even had noticed he digested better since he had been living here. It only had been one week and a half but the change was real. 

William hid behind the couch like a perfect child. He knew he acted like a fool but he could not make it otherwise. Even though things were quite good, he was still ill-at-ease in regard of the situation -

Correct, however he had to have in mind his guardiant certainly felt the same. Contrary to him, he pretended a lot, keeping his standards and persona at stake. That was the only way to understand his humour. 

 

'It's hard to understand your spirit,' the teenager mumbled when he succeeded to come over his childish state and rose his head over the couch. 'I don't get it when you're not serious.' he continued quite embarrassed to say so. Snape smirked, rose an eyebrow in the process. 

'I've been like that all year.'

'Not with me... Well, I guess I didn't get it before...' William shrugged and he felt dumb at the very moment. He hid once more, feeling his cheeks hot as he was blushing from shame to be that dumb. Oh what then? Yes, he sensed he lacked a lot when dealing with some human reactions and humour was so hard to read. Snape did not bother to mock this attitude and finished cooking in a complete silence. He almost thought that what was harder than the Wolfsbane issue was understanding the Melbourne boy. 

 

'Dinner's ready,' he said at last, producing a reverberating 'clong' with the plate against the table. 

Oh God, please, no. I can't now, William thought. He immediately slapped himself, tired to be that childish on that evening. 'What now?' Snape asked while they sat down and helped themselves. 

William did not answer. He only stuffed his mouth with food, quickly, as if he wanted to end the moment to run away and hide in his room. 

However, he now was living with a spy, a Death Eater, a person mastering both Occlumency and Legilimency. Snape was young but already skilled to understand people. At last, it was easy to read William's hurry. So the adult provoked his patience by slowing down his every gesture, his every bite, his every swallowing. When he finally finished his plate, he said: 'now, if you can tell me what's wrong with you, it'd help.'

 

William froze. His limbs felt like caramel and his brain like fog. Most of all, he went aware of the trap narrowing around him. Apart from the matron, no one directly asked him to develop what he had in mind. Then, he wondered about the reason which disturbed him. 

'I...,' he breathed loudly, sighed, shrugged and looked away, somewhere in the window area. 'I don't feel at ease with Mrs Bones and professor Dumbledore's visits - I... '

Was it true? Somehow. 'I know this is protocol but... It's like they all are waiting for you to make a mistake and bash you then... I don't like that, seriously, I don't like that.' A knot hurt him now. He immediately felt nauseous and now breathed sharply.

 

'Guess what: I knew it as far as I accepted to bring you here,' Snape replied roughly, not at all worried about the possible bashing due to failure. 'Some wanted to give credit to my so-called clean case, others wanted to give me a second chance to redeem myself - and the last ones only wished me to fail miserably to prove to the whole society no one should have given me that second chance. I have a lot of enemies and if I didn't accept this mere fact, it would have been useless to wake up every morning.' he commented while he put the dishes in the sink. 

 

The boy’s words somehow went right to his heart, but Snape only crashed them down not to disrupt his constant vigilance. In addition, William had to make his mind about his guardian’s way of life, which included its quota of enemies. Anyway, there was not time to waste in complaining, so that the Potions Master did not react as if an invisible threat was narrowing him.

 

The dinner remains cleaned, William came back to the sofa to drink his now cold infusion. He grumbled for a couple of seconds before he got up to reach the microwave oven. 

‘Wait. What are you doing?’ Snape interrupted him dead in the process. 

William watched him, all surprised. ‘I - am going to warm my infusion.’ he said blankly. Snape rolled his eyes and scarcely contained a scowl. The second after, the mug in his ward’s hands was warm. Non-verbal spell. Indeed.

‘Thanks,’ the teenager mumbled. 

He turned his heels in a complete silence. 

 

The raven distracted himself with another cup of coffee (at that hour of the night, it was stupid but he needed to continue his research - sleep was for the time when he’d die anyway). Then, he came out by the window to the terrace. Coffee and nicotine were his only way to stay awake. 

He needed to clear his mind, with what occurred earlier in the day and what the teenager had told him - Just in case: the young man worried a lot, in fact, about the potential visit of former Death Eaters at his place. Even though it was a tiny possibility, it existed; certainly when it concerned Lucius Malfoy. 

Malfoy had been quite kind to him while he was at Hogwarts. When Snape attended his first year, the Pure-Blood man was a Prefect in his fifth year. He had had his job at heart and had tried to help the young and poor boy to feel at ease in Slytherin House. 

The Potions master felt dutiful toward that man, despite the fact that he had encouraged him to enrol in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s group. Therefore, Snape would not refuse his “friend” to pay him a visit. 

 

Snape threw his cigarette butt away and came back inside. 

William had fallen asleep while he was smoking - Oh my…


	14. Haunting White Masks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been months I've written this chapter which, as it appears, is shorter than the previous ones. Why? Because I couldn't write more. I'm sorry for this irregularity, but I couldn't project anything further.   
> I hope you'd like it anyway.

Snape dropped the very idea to wake William up. The young man let the situation be and spent the remain of the night locked in his lab.   
That was a bad idea, with the mixture of coffee and cigarette in his blood: he grew angry too quickly and gave up easily. 

The next few days were stifling from heat and both inhabitants of Broad Lane remained closed inside during the whole day and suffered from it anyway. Their life was interrupted again by another owl post. The Hogwarts letter with the traditional booklist had finally come.   
‘At last….’ the potioneer mumbled, before he let the owl going out and folded the envelope next to his ward’s bowl.   
He hated shopping but Diagon Alley was far less horrible than the Muggle areas of London. Moreover, he needed other studies about the Wolfsbane potion, as he had run low of novelties on that matter. He would not give up that easily. Potions helped him to cope with his traumatic encounter with one specific werewolf… 

While the young man was deep in thoughts, William went down from his room to the kitchen, to sit down as noiselessly as possible.   
‘Mail, for you,’ the Raven said while scanning The Daily Prophet. The boy looked twice, he still was half asleep, and his blurry eyes met the envelope. He took it, tore it and read the usual booklist. He opened his mouth to say something but retrieved it. Instead of asking his guardian when they would go to Diagon Alley, he poured himself some tea and started to daydream, half back in his bed, half here in the living room.  
He did not want to ask anything, in any case his guardian would not receive properly his demand. 

Nevertheless, Snape wanted to get rid of Diagon Alley as soon as possible, to concentrate on other things. In addition, he wanted to have more material to continue his research and delaying the shopping time would not help his low patience to things in general. So, he booked their trip to the very afternoon. That decision was enough to wake up William at once, for he to come back to reality. 

 

*

It was all new to William to go to Diagon Alley with an adult - apart from both times he had come with his late parents. What was new was he now went with an adult wizard.   
What was not new was how people looked twice at him when they noticed who followed him. At the time when his parents went shopping with him, the wizard community felt in their right to scrutinize those Muggles - it was hard for them to ignore those judgemental gazes, while He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was ruling Great Britain.   
The following years, the scrutiny was hinted with pity, as some recognized William but seeing him on his own in that large area was a bit faulty - if he was all alone, it was because of the consequences of their beliefs. One thing they could not yet come over, accept as a problematic fact and to which they did not admit even after the end of the war.   
Now, that Severus Snape himself went along the teenager was a novelty. Even though his guardianship was known to public, it had an impact on people’s minds to see it as true. 

‘Get rid of your booklist,’ mumbled the Potions Master under his teeth, while they were stuck in the crowd created in Floury and Blott’s. William made his way through the different packs of people gathered in some bookshelves, now that he was taller, he had less difficulties to pick up the books he needed than when he first came here.   
Then, the nightmarish queue to pay started and both guardian and ward deeply wished it to end as soon as possible. That was hell. 

They only went to the Apothecary at the end of their trip - if one may say so.   
The Eaglet peered at Snape, whose traits relaxed a bit somehow. That was like he found some peace during that dull obligation with all supplies from his field of specialization.   
They purchased the boy’s ingredients to fulfill his kit which had decreased because of his private lessons before the Raven studied with total concentration and knowledge the different cauldrons which were aligned and stored depending on their size, their material and quality.   
William blinked hard while he read the prices - he never could afford any of them with his pocket money. He suddenly felt hot running through his veins and heating his neck to his cheeks - the warmth of shame. Yet Snape had made it clear, but the teenager felt so ill-at-ease to depend on him on that point.   
Anyway, remember it’s about security he thought to calm down his feelings and his heart beating fast.   
Then, when they had made their choice on one specific cauldron, Snape told to the cashier to deliver it to Hogwarts. It was easier to do so and the potioneer did not see himself bringing such an item back in the Muggle area of London to his flat. Common sense and spying inclined to inspire a discreet profile, anyway.

As soon as both of them finished with the apothecary, they went out and both of them regretted because of the crowded main street, which had grown up through that small amount of time spent inside.   
To add for their pain, they could not anticipate what came next. From the crowd one person distinguished himself and approached like a prey bird on Snape.   
Snape who froze at once and went blank. He soon thought deeply inside he should have prepared himself for that kind of situation. He had but, without explaining himself it, lowered his guard and he cursed himself - Holy fig.  
‘Good morning Mr Snape,’ Lucius Malfoy said in an onctuous voice, well-mannered, his cane in hand, a hand which was glovered.   
William had frozen too and childly had half-hidden behind his guardian - as if Malfoy had not seen him.   
Even though Snape had lost a bit of track, he recomposed himself in a fraction of second, he wore back his mask of detachment. Nothing had happened, then. That was all.   
‘Good morning, Lord Malfoy,’ he replied in a neutral tone and slightly bowed his head politely.   
The blonde man then had a glimpse at William, showed nothing to this acknowledgment, even though a some sort of smirk crossed his lips for a few seconds.   
‘Yes… Yes,’ he muttered, then said in an intelligible voice ‘I see that you have had the guardianship… How things are going so far?’  
Indeed the man knew everything which occurred at the Ministry. As soon as he had been hired in the team of the schooling board Governors, he had ears everywhere, had the most recent news about any affair occurring between the walls of the Ministry. Nothing had been a surprise to the choice of whom was in charge of the whole judicial affair in the person of Bones. Malfoy perfectly was aware of the chess game running beneath it: Dumbledore had been behind all of it from the start, playing maliciously the leader of those fools supporting the inferiors from their kind.   
Snape eyed at the boy, casted a non-verbal Mufflatio, asked William to wait for him at Fortescue’s.   
The Eaglet wanted to protest for the form but he reckoned the disadvantages of it, seemed to understand some dynamics and finally obeyed silently. He only nodded past Malfoy, having found back a bit of his education.   
‘At first, I thought something hard hit your head to accept such a silly thing… Knowing who you are… But, then I reconsidered the whole of it and applauded your move.’  
The Potions master smirked knowingly, his arms crossed, his chin up like the proud man he was.   
‘Dumbledore thought it would be the best for me to trick everyone but he doesn’t know that the whole situation would allow me to stay in his favors and later…’ he trailed off and shrugged, as to let understand that only time would fix the breaking point.   
Both of them did not want his return, mostly Malfoy who had fought to be where he was, but Snape knew - thanks to the Headmaster - that it was otherwise. The spying issue was to be prepared as soon as possible, and being Melbourne’s guardian would be an excellent argument to prove He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that he was loyal and made his best to trick the old man. Dumbledore was brilliant anyway - until the Potioneer found that was scary.   
Malfoy had always respected his junior’s intelligence and had been from those who supported the young Snape to reach the Dark lord. Yet, it had been a bit of a stroke of luck to play, as everybody knew the background from where Snape came from. That was why the first days as Death Eater had been tough for the potioneer. He first had to show his potential in order to erase his origins, and by so accomplish the lower tasks - such as eavesdrop Trelawney’s prediction and ask Dumbledore to hire him as DADA professor.   
Snape was still bitter about this. He had failed on both points and he never would forgive himself.   
Nevertheless, Malfoy admitted he had been right to place his whole confidence on Snape who had been perfect on most of it: he had erased his poor condition on both manners and words, he had fulfilled all missions - the only time he had flawed was that ridiculous meeting when he had pleaded mercy for that Mudblood Potter. Ah, Malfoy reckoned that everyone had their own defaults, and that some sort of friendship his fellow Slytherin had been a peculiar one. It had been a surprise to him when he had witnessed this scene because he remembered what others had said about the day both Snape and née Evans had broken their relation. He could not imagine that years later, whereas this woman had married one of Snape’s tormentors, the Raven would try to ask mercy for her to the most powerful man from Europe.   
That was nonsense.   
Or, the young man still had feelings toward her, despite what he said and claimed.   
Silly thought.   
Apart from that, Snape always satisfied the Lord and had accepted to be a spy for him. They could have succeeded if so the Potter baby had not existed… Regrets were regrets, past was past; and Malfoy needed to live the present day and prepare his future. Things were becoming better. He was successfully becoming the needed one at the Ministry, his reputation was on best omens, and he had a heir. A male heir. That was why he wished the Dark Lord would not come back. He wanted his son to live in a total peace whole his life and gain his own power and influence by himself (helped by his name though) the most honourable way possible. 

Both (ex) Death Eaters chatted a bit, Malfoy happy that Snape fulfilled his role as spy and best man of confidence to Dumbledore, and Snape happy that Malfoy believed in him blindly. Perfect.   
Soon, the professor bade goodbye and joined William at Fortescue’s. 

The young man found out the boy as he had expected. William had chosen a seat at the terrace and was quite elsewhere, blank, not moving a single muscle and certainly his tea had turned cold. Snape went inside, ordered a coffee and joined back the teenager. He sat at the table opposite from the boy and waited for him to come back on tracks.   
However William was not in the mood at all. He merely watched the flow of people passing by without watching closely. Snape knew that kind of temperament: everytime the student was so much out of reach in class, he reacted this way and found refuge into his bubble.   
The problem was that coping this way did not solve things, only delaying them. In addition, it would end more destructive than anything. William needed to break this and find a self-caring way to communicate to be better. By the way, the guardian decided to act differently than usual: he inhaled to take courage and said:  
‘That’s why I wanted you to go away.’ He made a pause, looked away then went back on his purpose: ‘did you… I mean… They - well, we… wear masks so.’ he sighed, feeling all dumb. He slapped his face and started all over: ‘how do you feel?’  
Snape finally had made his mind and thought that was the most essential detail than anything else.   
William glanced at him a fraction of second and paled even more if it was possible, his heart at his lips. How did he feel? As if a storm had drowned his inner self.   
‘I don’t know…’ he murmured, unable to speak louder, or else he would drain his energy. ‘It’s like… my instinct told me so… that he is…’ The end of his sentence kept imprisoned halfway.   
His guardian nodded distractedly and sipped his coffee in one gulp.   
He then thought wise to stop there, aware of the incapacity from his ward to talk at all.   
‘Whenever you feel able to stand on your feet, we shall go back home,’ he said at last. 

 

*

 

‘One thing occurred to me…’ Snape trailed off once both of them were back to the apartment calmness.   
William did not react - not as someone would expect: the boy did not move or say anything when one talked to him. The Raven knew, from observation, that the teenager always was all hears (apart from when he dozed in class or was too far in his daydreams).   
‘When Winston came with the other owl… Well, it’s none of my business but… Was it a personal mail?’  
William now glimpsed at him and concentrated back on his Advanced Potion Making book.   
‘It is’, he merely replied.   
The young man rolled his eyes, a bit exasperated. If his ward received personal mail, that meant he had shared this address without asking beforehand. That implied security. Well, the place was plottable, the problem was elsewhere. One could pick his mail, hurt his owl, and threaten the Death Eater. That was so a routine during the War that thought had hit the Potioneer rather instinctively. 

Before he exhaled loudly and took some distance to what he had in mind. His paranoia was still very high, then. Nothing would harm them, apart from Lucius Malfoy - and, as a Slytherin, the kind of harm he would provide would be indirect and vicious. 

 

William had not answered to Bill Weasley yet. When he had received the letter from the young Gryffindor, he had gazed at the bit of parchment blankly, not knowing what to write.   
Both of them were not that close, as they mostly met during Snape’s detentions and they did not talk that much but - but William had liked their quite rare exchanges. That’s why he had accepted the first year would write to him during the holidays.   
The teenager grabbed the letter and read it again, nonetheless he was not concentrated to be one hundred percent into it - his emotions overwhelmed him too much.   
The shopping at Diagon Alley had been too - too what? He was not able to put it a clear thought. Only thinking about it made him sick. His gaze went unfocused, his throat had now a knot, his hands were shaking until it imprisoned his whole body. 

Okay, let’s try something, he thought at last because the very least he wanted was Bill to worry about him. He took some paper and a pen and started to write something of an answer. 

 

*

 

At first, he thought he had dreamed that sound, but he slowed down his path and came closer to the door which had been stood ajar. Snape listened carefully, waiting.   
The boy moved again, and pleaded - pleaded, with tears in his voice, halfway through his throat. He was having a nightmare and by the pleading, a haunting one. Muffled cries and tears against the pillow, William experienced his parents' assassination once more. It was too vivid, too powerful, too real to escape from that terrific moment.   
The potioneer witnessed all of this in total motionlessness. He did not know what to do, what to say. How should he act? Coming in and wake the teenager up? What should he do? He stayed there, at the threshold, not knowing what he had to do - and that, that, was unnerving. He always knew what his next actions should be, but since he had been guarding this boy, all of his certainty had started to collapse. There was something the former Death Eater did not know for granted: how to raise a fifteen year-old Muggleborn child. A couple of minutes later, the boy had ceased to cry - the nightmare had gone. The Raven noiselessly went down the stairs and reached the balcony to meet the starry night. He promised himself not to talk about what he saw the following day. William would have been ashamed. In addition, the young adult could not do so, as he had had repetitive nightmares at that age too, more or less. The kind of reminiscence he would have preferred to forget forever. Instead of that, he only was finding a new recipe for the Wolfsbane Potion. It was his only way to cope that trauma. How would William cope his parents' death? How could someone cope with that anyway?

 

*

 

Bill frowned while he read the piece of paper. His mother, who was preparing meal, turned and watched him closely.  
‘What’s wrong, honey?’ she asked. ‘You look preoccupied.’ she added when he looked back at her in wonder.   
‘Nah, that’s nothing.’ he replied, then shrugged. ‘Well, that’s… I don’t know how to consider what I’ve just read, that’s all.’   
‘Is that that William you’ve talked to us in your letters back at Hogwarts who wrote to you?’ Mrs Weasley inquired next.   
That was not at all a need to sneak in his son’s life, she only was curious as his elder often talked about that fifth year in his correspondence.   
‘Yes…’ he answered evasively. ‘I guess he’s not that much of a open-hearted one.’   
The pre-teen decided to drop the matter where it was. He remembered perfectly well his mate from detention was largely open with what was about his Queens and Kings rather than himself. Curiously enough, Bill understood that and accepted it as the first thing he did was to rush into his room to reply and ask an extensive genealogical tree about the Muggle Monarchs to show them later to his dad, who surely would beam in extensive joy. 

 

*

 

‘You know you’re named after a Muggle king, right?’ Bill stated while he was reading with his brother Charlie, reading himself. Both of them often kept reading their favourite topics in their room. Sometimes Percy sneaked inside to share their ritual; when Fred and George did not bother them with their games.   
Well, the elder sons liked those moments, innocent and playful, with the twins. Nevertheless, some calmness was precious in that crowded house. The youngest, Ron and Ginny were noisy too, but as they were respectively one and a half and eleven months, that was totally different.   
Mostly, cries.   
Ew.   
‘Is that William who told you so?’ teased Charlie, who willingly dropped his dragons book for a couple of seconds to answer.   
‘Yes, Charles. He even told me that you’re named after the current Prince of Wales, actual son of the Queen. Percy is named after a knight from the Arthurian legends, I quote.’ he continued.  
‘Really?’ Percy blurted out, all excited. He already could picture himself in a Middle-Age period, wearing an armor.   
‘It seems that Fred and George too. They are from different periods, though. Frederick was quite a few centuries ago, whereas the latest king George was the current Queen’s father. Nice,’ Bill pursued his reading from William’s letter. He had asked the Eaglet if his family’s first names were coordinated with historical figures. ‘For Ron, he’s checking because that’s not usual as name in the aristocracy… And Ginny… Ah! She also is linked to the Arthurian legends! She’s named after king Arthur's wife.’  
Charlie and Percy were all ears and were surprised to that close perfect matching. Either their parents had thoroughly chose those names or it was a huge stroke of luck.   
‘Did you tell that to dad?’ Charlie then asked. ‘He surely would be pleased to know all of it.’   
‘Not yet. I wanted to tell him that during dinner.’  
Percy shook his head slightly. ‘Depends if he comes home before we go to bed,’ he said sorrowly.   
He did not reproach his mother’s way of raising them, but certainly the fact that their father was hooked by work until late every so often.   
‘Or drop him a note, so that he would cheer up a bit in the morning?’ Charlie suggested.   
‘Brilliant.’   
Bill now spent the following couples of minutes copying past what William had written him on a separate bit of parchment. Both Charlie and Percy went back to their readings.

 

*

 

‘What’s that odd smile which reaches your both ears?’ Snape frowned.   
William dropped his letter and laughed a bit before he cleared his throat from embarrassment, because - oh, by George - that inquisitive look from his guardian shook his shyness quite hard.   
‘That’s… my previous letter had a lot of success, I guess, from what I’m reading.’ he succeeded to articulate intelligibly.   
The potioneer rose an eyebrow, sipped his coffee, then raised the other eyebrow: that was the sign he was merely curious. It was true this exchange worried him a lot, thank you dear paranoia, but it appeared that was quite innocent. Subsequently, he had soon excluded those letters would have come from his ward’s classmates. The way William reacted, quite positively, to the owl deliveries inclined in that way. As since the potion incident, things had turned tough in Ravenclaw House, never the teenager would have jumped from joy to receive letters from Virginia or Elizabeth.   
It only let two possibilities: the Hufflepuff boy and… no, that was stupid but possible: William Weasley. Both Williams had appeared to be in good terms whenever they both were in detention.   
To conclude, with what the Eaglet just said, knowing Arthur Weasley per reputation, if his letter had success and knowing William’s keen interest in British history, it only could mean that his penmate was the Weasley boy. 

Good. Or not. Well, apart from his aversion to Gryffindor, he should keep in mind that what was about his ward’s life was most important and if he was okay with that “friendship”, why not then. 

Since the Diagon Alley shopping, none of them had talked about what occurred there, either they did not dare to or they would not admit that William had nightmares as a consequence.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this first chapter was correct. Feel free to add comments (pieces of advice, positive and negative thoughts). See you next week for chapter 2.


End file.
